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' PRACTICAL 

ENGLISH PROSODY 

AND 

VERSIFICATION ; 

Oil 

DESCRIPTIONS OF THE 

DIFFERENT SPECIES OE ENGLISH YERSii, 

WITH 

EXERCISES 

IN 

SCANNING AND VERSIFICATION, 

GRADUALLY ACCOMMODATED 

to the vaiious Capacities of Youth at different Ages, 

and calculated to produce Correctness of Ear and Taste 

ia reading and writing* Poetry; 

the whole interspersed with occasional Remarks on 

ETYMOLOGY, SYNTAX, AND PRONUNCIATION. 

BY JOHN^CAREY^ LL. D. 

PRIVATE TEACHER, 

Author of" Latin Frosodi/y^ and various other Publications. 



A NEW AND IMPROVED EDITION. 

LONDON. 

PRINTED FOR BALDWIN, CRADOCK, AND JOY, 

PATERNOSTER-ROW, 

By J. Gillet, Crown-court, Flee^street, 

- 1816, ^,;:#-'^'^-'^ 






Publications hy iJr, Carty. 

'' Key io Practical En^ish Pro.,,, ^nd Versification;- a new 
edition. ' 

Latin Frosod,^. „ew cduion, considerably enlarged and i.n- 
p^'oved, 

Mridscn^ent of « X...-„ Frosod,," for the use of Schools. 
Scanmng Lxercises for jouni: Prosodians. 
Mp/,abetic Key to Propria, gn^ Maribu,, &c. 
Skeleton of tke Latin Accidence, exhibiung the whole in one 
convenient folding Table 



PREFACE. 



It is 7iot with the view of making poets and po- 
etesses^ that I send forth this little publication. That 
must be the work of Nature alone : it is not in my 
power to create them; and, if it were, I might be 
accused of doing more harm than good, in tempting 
any of my young readers to quit a gainful calling 
for the gainless trade"^. My ffims are more humble — 
3. to teach the learner tojead poetry with propriety 
and grace; — 2. to improve and polish his style for 
prose composition. 

However unprofitable the writing of poetry (as a 
professional occupation) may in general prove, the 
reading of it is universally allowed to be far from 
unprofitable. It softens and humanises the heart : 
it inspires the soul with generous and exalted sen- 
timents : it inculcates every virtue with greater 
energy and success, than the most labored, the most 
animated, prose. But it loses much of its effect, 

* Trade. — My profound respect for the inspired sons and 
dnughters of genius would have forbidden me to apply this 
ignoble term to their subUme pursuit, if a great poet had not 
himself set Hfie the exjimple — 

I left no calling far this idle trade, (Pope. 
a 



iv Preface, 

when dis-harmonised and enfeebled in the recitation, 
by an injudicious mode of utterance ; and this will 
ever be the case, when the reader is not thoroughly 
acquainted with the metre — not aware of what lati- 
tude it allows in the changes of feet, and other 
poetic licences of different kinds^. Nor can that 
necessary knowledge be so w^ell acquired from pre- 
cept alone — often ill understood, and quickly for- 
gotten — as it may be gained by practice. For this 
obvious reason, it has been deemed expedient, in all 
the chief schools of this and other countries, to train 
the joung student to Latin versification, for the 
purpose, not of making him a Latin poet, but of 
quahfying him to relish the beauties of the ancient 
poetry, and to improve his style for prose composi- 
tion. And shall we pay more attention to a dead 
language than to our own? It were a shame if we 
did — a flagrant shame, if, \vhile we carefully culti- 
vate the Latin versification, we wholly neglected the 
English; hardly one individual in a thousand ever 
feeling any temptation to write Latin poetry after 
be has quitted college ; whereas there are very few 



* With studied impropriety of speech, 

He soars beyond the hackney critic's reach ; 
To epithets allots emphatic state, 

While principals, ungrac'd, like lacqueys, wait 

Conjunction, preposition, adverb, join, ^ 

To stamp new vigor on the nervous line. 

In monosyllables his thunders roll : — 

He, She, It, And, We, Ye, They, fright the soul. (Churchill. 



Preface. v 

of the thinking part of mankind, who do not, at some 
time or other, find occasion to pen a few verses in 
their native language. In such cases, which may 
daily and hourly occur, what a pity, that, for want 
of due acquaintance v/ith the technical part of the 
business, they should^ by the un metrical rudeness of 
their lines, disparage perhaps good ideas, which, in 
a more terse and polished form, might command the 
reader's applause! Indeed every person, whether 
poet or not, who has received any tolerable educa- 
tion, and pretends to write decent prose, ought like- 
wise to be qualified for the occaaional production of 
a few verses, smooth, at least, and meiricAlly correct, 
-whatever may be their merit or demerit in other re- 
spec*?. 

That the practice of versification materially im* 
proves the style for prose compositi'n, there cannot 
be a doubt. The ear which is acutely sensible to 
the harmonies of verse, will naturally revt>lt against 
inharmonious harshness in prose ; and the paina, be- 
stowed in searching for a variety of words of diffe- 
rent lengths, quantities, and terminations, to suit the 
exigencies of the metre — 

• the shifts and turns, 

Th' expedients and inventions multiform, 
To which the mind resorts in chase of terms,.,. 
T' arrest the fleeting images, that fill 
The mirror of the raind^ — 



* Covvper, Task, book 2, 



vi Prefab, 

will copiously enlarge the writer-s stock of expyes- 
sions — will enable him to array his thoughts in a 
more elegant and attractive garb^ and to yary that 
garb at pleasure, by the ready aid of a diversified 
phraseology. It will at the same time produce a 
more important and beneficial effect — it will enrich 
the intellectual store of thought : for, while in search 
of an epithet, for example, or a periphrase, he is 
obliged to view the subject in all its possible bear- 
ings and relations, that he may choose such parti- 
cular word or phrase as shall exhibit it in the most 
advantageous point of light. And what study more 
effectual to call into action the powers of the mind, to 
exercise the judgement, to whet the sagacity, and 
give birth to a variety of ideas, which might other- 
wise have lain for-ever dormant, like thos0 deep- 
buried seeds, which sleep inert and barren in the 
w^omb of earth, until the hand of Industry have 
turned them up, to feel the genial influence of the 
sun and air*? 



* I have some-wliere read, that earth, turned up from deep 
pits, produces plants before unknown in the vicinity. — Have the 
seeds of those plants lain dormant in their dark recesses, from 
the time when the general deluge, or some later inunda*tion, 
providentially overwhelmed the forests of our isle, to preserve 
them for remote posterity under the more convenient form of 
pit-coal?— -That question, if answerable by any other than the 
Creator alone, I leave to be answered by those who are better 
qualifiejd, than I, to investigate and explain the wondrous opera- 
tions of almighty wisdom and povrer. 



Preface, vii 

JFor these weighty considerations^ the practice of 
verse-making has been recommended by Locke, 
Chesterfield, Franklin, &c. and, although it has not 
yet been jtublicly adopted as a necessary part of an 
English educaiion, it is to be ho[)ed that every 
teacher who aspires to eminence in the profession, 
vviH henceforward bestow on it that serious attention 
which it so evidently deserves. Indeed, from the 
opinions which I have heard on the subject, I en- 
tertain not a doubt, that those heads of seminaries 
who shall make it a regular branch in their system 
of instruction, will, in the estimation of all good 
judged, gain a decided preference over those who 
neglect it^. 

Nor is the business a matter of any difficulty, if 
the following simple plan be pursued. 1. Let the 
learner begin wfth single lines, which, without any 
mixture of alien feet, have all the even syllables re- 
gularly accented, and the odd syllables un-accented ; 
and in which the words, barely transposed from their 
poetic order, require onl}^ metrical arrangement, to 
produce the proper feet, which shall stand the test of 
scansion. 2. Let him have transposed single lines, 
containing other feet besides the Iambus, Let him 
be directed to mark every such foot in each verse 



* I do not say this with the interested view of recoinmending 
my book : for the simple method, v.hich I point out in the en- 
suing paragraph, may be pursued by any teacher^ without the 
assistance of my book, or any other publicalioii of the kind« 

a 3 



viii Preface. 

that he has made, and thus to lay a foundation for 
correct and elegant reading ; being taught, of course, 
in repeating his lines, to give no emphasis to un-ac- 
cented syllables, but to lay the chief stress of utter- 
ance on those which are accented — and carefully to 
observe the cssura, with its attendant pause^. 3. Let 
him have distichs, in which the words of the two 
lines are blended together. 4. When his eai' is well 
attuned to metre— when he thoroughly understands 
all the admissible variations of the feet, and has suf- 
ficiently accustomed and reconciled his ideas to those 
fi equent deviations from the natural order of syntax, 
produced by the poetic inversions of style — let him 
undertake single lines, and afierv/ards blended distichs, 
in which, besides the derangement of the words, the 
teacher has suppressed one or more epithets ^^ to be 
supplied by the pupil ; as, for example, the following 
distich — 

Hear, how the birds, on evVy bloomy spray. 
With joyous music wake the dawning day— 

may thus be given for an exercise — 

Hear, how, on evVy spray, the birds 
Wake the day with mmic — 

care being taken to point out the particular words 
which require epithets. 5. At a more advanced 
stage of the pupil's progress, besides the derange- 

* See page 56. 

t See the note in page 177. 



Preface. ix 

menl of words, and the suppression of epithets, let 
aa occasional word or phrase be altered ; and, in lieu 
of the new word or phrase introduced, let the pupil 
be directed to substitute a word or phrase of his own, 
either synonymous, or in some degree equivalent, as 
— to exempUfy again in the same distich — 

Hear, how, on every bus\ the birds 
Wake the day with mmic* 

Some of my readers may perhaps be surprised that 
I have not made nonseiue verses a preliminary part of 
my plan. Of that expedient, or of another practice 
which usually follows it in our British system of 
education — I mean the practice oX writifig themes — 
it would ill become me to s[)eak witli disrespect^ 
since both have long enjoyed the~sanction of so many 
teachers in this country. I hope, nevertheless, that I 
may, without offence to any person, be allowed to state 
a simple, but important fact, which is well entitled to 
serious consideration. In some highly and justly cele- 
brated schools on the continent, where the delicate and 
difficult art of education has been carefully studied 
and systematically cultivated, both the nonsense verses 
and the themes (though calculated to save trouble to 
the preceptor) have long since been exploded, as less 
useful, less efficacious, than other methods, which at 
once prove more simple, easy, and pleasant to the 
learner, and are found perfectly to answer the de- 
sired purpose in each respective case. With all due 
deference, therefore, to the advocates of nonset^se 



X Preface. 

vm'ses and theme-writing, I must take the liberty of 
sajing, that, when I consider the simplicity, the 
utility, and the success of the continental methods, I 
cannot with-hold from them my approbation, though 
I am far from presuming to censure the practice of 
those teachers who differ from me in opinion, and 
who still continue to follow the old modes. — But, to 
return to my subject — 

The mode, above proposed, is perfectly easy and 
simple : it is the mode in which I myself was taught 
Latin versification in my youth, and have since taught 
it to others. From my experience of the pleasant- 
ness and efficacy of the method in Latin, I thought 
I could not do better than" adopt the same in English ; 
and, accordingly, such is the plan that i have pur- 
sued both in private practice, and in the versificatory 
Exercises which here follow the Prosody*. Easy as 
the first of those Exercises are, I have studied to 
render the task still more easy, by premisirig near 
thirty pag'^s of Scanning Exercises, that the learner's 
ear may be formed to the metre, and he may under- 
stand the poetic licences in tlie different variations of 
feet, before he attempt to make a single verse. 

In the Exv^rcises, in consequence of my necessary 
transposition of the original words, the reader will 
find occasional instances of harsh or ambiguous 
phraseology — sometimes perhaps an aukward anti- 

*' Aad on a plan as nearly bimiiar as the difference of the two 
languages will allow, I am preparing for the press " Exercises 
in Latin Versification,^ 



Preface. xi 

climax', or other violation of the rules of elegant 
writing: but it is to be remembered that these Ex- 
ercises are not given as models of style: they are 
only the rude materials, from which, by a new and 
better arrangement, the young student is to produce 
more polished and harmonious lines; and those de- 
fects were absolutely nn-avoidable, unless I had fas- 
tidiously determined to reject every verse, however 
elegant in its poetic form, wMiich sliould not appear 
equally elegant when deranged into prose. To have 
indulged in that over-nice delicacy of selection, al* 
though it would have multiplied ray labor ten or 
twenty fold, could not have benefited the studeat, 
who, when once apprised of the nature and design 
of those transpositions, incurs no greater danger of 
having his taste corrupted by them, than the young 
grammarian incurs from the exercises in had English, 
which are everj'-where put into his hands to be cor- 
rected. * ' 

With respect to the pupil's performance in the 
latter stages of his progress^ where he has to furnish 
epithets, to alter terms, and supply poetic peri- 
phrases, it cannot be expected that he shall always 
give the same words which appear in the original 
lines. Every object is capable of being viewed in 
various points of light; add, according to the light 
in which he views it, he will characterise it by an 
epithet, or describe it by a term or phrase, which, 
though it happen to differ from that in the ^^ KEY," 
may be equally good and commendable : or, if gifted 



xii Preface. 

with a poeiic genius, he may, in some cases, surpass 
the original. And here the teacher will have an op- 
portunity of exercising his own judgement, guiding 
that of the pupil, developing, appreciating, and im- 
proving his talents, and forming his youthful taste 
on principles of sound criticism. 

In my selection of examples for exercise, I have 
labored under a very aukward and unpleasant diffi-^ 
eulty, more particularly in the first half of the book, 
where the words are barely displaced from their 
metrical arrangement in the verse. I have fre- 
quently been compelled to omit the very best lines of 
a passage, because I could not satisfactorily transpose 
the language from the order in which I found it; 
and it would have been useless to the end which I had 
in view, to present the pupil with ready-made verses, 
which he could only transcribe. And, ultliough, in 
some few instances, I have, for the sake of preserving 
the continuity of a piece, admitted a ready-made 
distich, it is what I do not myself approve, and 
v/ould, as far as possible, w^ish to avoid; the object 
of this publication being, not to produce a selection 
of the best poetry, but a selection of poetry best 
calculated to instruct and exercise the learner in ver- 
sification. 

Respecting the sources from which I have derived 
those examples, I am sorry that I cannot, by affixing 
to each piece the writer's name, gratify that very 
natural wish, felt by every reader, to know the 
author of what he reads. A compliance with that 



Preface. xiii 

wish was iimpossible, for tvro reasons — 1. Man}? of 
the pieces, fium which I have made extracts, are 
anonymous. 2. It would have been treating an 
author very unfairly, to give, under his name, a 
garbled extract of a few lines, w^hen (for the reason 
above mentioned) I had omitted some verses imme- 
diately connected with theai, which are perhaps far 
superior to those that I quote, and without which, 
the passage must necessarily appear to very great 
disadvantage. Any author, whom I had thus mis- 
represented, would, I presume, be far from pleased 
with me for taking such unjustifiable liberty with 
his writings and his name. So at least Ijudge from 
my own feelings ; for, although I have occasionally 
inserted some extracts from poetic trifles of my own, 
1 should be very unwilling to set my name to them 
in that mutilated condition. 

But soma authors may perhaps be offended with 
me upon a different ground. They may fancy that 
they see their verses altered in my pages, and con- 
demn me for havin^^ taken tiie liberty of makino; the 
supposed alterations. I beg leave to remove that 
mistaken idea. 1 do not presume to alter or amend 
any man's lines: 1 do not arrogate to mj^&elf that 
superiority of taste and judgement which is requisite 
to any person undertaking the invidious task ; nor 
have I a sufficiency of leisure time to bestow^ on the 
thankless employment. The case is simply this — If 
a line from one author, and a line from another, to- 
gether made a distich baiter calculated for an exer- 



xir Preface, 

cise than either poet's lines could separately fuiuish, 
I made no scruple to unite them : and, if a line and 
half, or a line and three quarters/^uited my purpose, 
— in borrowing so much from one writer, I held 
myself equally at liberty to take from another, or to 
supply from my own stock, a half or quarter line to 
complete the distich, w^ithout meaning to pass an}' 
censure on what I did not think it necessary to 
borrow^. Had I not thus acted, I should, on many 
occasions, have been forced to omit a good couplet, 
from the circumstance of its not making complete 
sense, when detached from the context ; whereas, bj 
Caking only a part of the original couplet, and sup- 
plying a word or two from another source, I obtained 
what I w^anted. 

i t remains to say a few words relative to the marking 
of the feet in the KEY. — I have thought it wholly 
superfluous to mark the regular and principal feet, 
which every child can discover, and have confined 
my marks to poetic licences in the introduction of. 
the alten or auxiliary feet, which are thus renderecj 
more conspicuous, if, in doing this, I have perhaps, 
through haste or oversight, occasionally suffered a 
foot to pass, otherwise marked than a censorious 
critic might wish, I am willing to hope that such 
deviations are neither very numerous, nor likely to be 

* Whoever will take the trouble of making the experiment, 
will find that he may often read many hundred hnes, without 
gleaning a single distich, in every respect fit %o be given as an 
exercise in versificatiop. 



Preface, xr 

attended with any ill consequences to the youthful 
reader^ as they will probably occur only in a few 
cases, which may fairly admit a difference of opinion, 
and where, though one person may condemn, an- 
other will approve. And, with respect to such cases 
as Mani/ a, Virtuous^ Happid?r, &c. — in which some 
prosodians would make dactyls or anapsests, but I 
would make dissyllabic feet by the aid of synaeresis 
— I have sometimes marked such combinations as 
tw^o syllables, sometimes as one ; not choosing, by an 
invariable observance of the one or the other mode, 
either to force my own opinion upon the reader, or 
to give my unqualified sanction to a doctrine which 
I disapprove; and thus leaving him an opportunity of 
exercising his ov/n judgement on a point in which he 
will perceive that I have not scrupulously studied uni- 
formity, though I have clearly enough expressed my 
sentiments on the subject in page 50 of the Prosody, 
to which I refer him. Neither have I deemed it 
necessary to be very particular in always marking a 
Pyrrhic at the close of the line, where the final pause 
and emphasis will render such foot almost an Iambus.. 
Though 1 have, in some places, marked such feet, 
that 1 might not appear to have entirely overlooked 
that licence, I have perhaps as often left them un- 
marked; not thinking it of any consequence. whether 
they were marked or not, as the youngest reader can 
easily discover a Pyrrhic in that station, without 
having it pointed out to him. 



xvi Preface. 

I ROW conclude with a request, that, as this is (I 
believe) the first attempt which has yet been publicly 
made to introduce English versification into our 
school system *— and as absolute perfection cannot 
reasonably be expected in first attempts of any kind -^ 
the public will indulgently excuse whatever imper- 
fections may be found to blemii^h my pages, and will 
give me credit for zeal at least, if not for complete 
success in the outset of my undertaking. 

Of this new Edition^ I shall only say, that I have 
taken pains to improve my work, and hope it will 
enjoy a continuance of that approbation which was 
bestowed on it by the readers of the former very 
limited impresssioq. 

MayW, 1810. J. CAREY. 



t^ Addition ta the remark on Growen, Grown) &c. in page 6. 

To a similar syncope we are indebted for the word Owriy in 
the phrases, *^ My own,^^ " Your own,^^ &c. which (though 
considered by some grammarians as an adjective, and, in some 
dictionaries, most nn-accountably marked as a substantive /) is, 
in reality, the contracted preterite participle of the verb Oa;r, 
viz. Owen, Ow'uy which, in other phrases, is still universally 
sounded as two distinct syllables, though improperly pronounced 
Orcingy as the plural Shippen is corrupted to SInppivg : ex. gr. 
'' It is owing [instead of ozien] to you, that tjjis happens" — 
^ There is money owing^' [in^ead of ewen,'] 



CONTENTS. 



Quantity — Accent — Verse^ji^. 1 

Metre — Scanning — Rhime, 2 

HypermeterVerses— Caesura, 3 

Poetic Feet, 4 

Elisions '^ Aphasresis — Synco- 
pe — Apocope, 6 

Synseresis, 7, 54 

Dioeresis, 9 

Verses — how terminated^ 12 

Their Classes, 13 

Iambic Verses, 14. — Ballad 
Measure, 18. — Alexan- 
drine, 21. — Hudibrastic, 23 
—Anacreontic, 24, 30 

Trochaic Verses, 25 

Anapaestic Verses, 32. — Ain- 
steian, 34 

Mixture of Feet in the Iambic 
Metre, 37 

The Caesura, 5G 

Hint on Song-writing, 60 

Exercises in Scan?iing, 

Pure Iambics, 63, 70 
Iambics, with examples of Syn- 

seiesis, 73, 75 
lambicsj with a Mixture of dif- 
ferent Feet, 76, S3 



Exercises in VersiJicaiiGn, 

Pure Iambics to be made, 91, 
112 

Iambics, with a Mixture of dif- 
ferent Feet, 115 

iambics, with' examples of Sjn* 
aeresis, 124 

Iambic stanzas of difFereftt 
kinds, 136 145 

Paragraphs of two , verses 
biended together, 153 176 

Iambics, to have Epithets 
added, 177 192 

Iambics, with Words to be 
altered, 196 214 

laLfibics requiring both the Al- 
teration of Words, and the 
Addition of Epithets, 200 
221 

Trochaic Verses to be scanned, 
222 

Trochaics to be made, 223 
230 

Anapcestic Verses to bescanned, 
230 

Anaprsstics to be made, 233 

Blank Verse, 242 



CONTENTS — PART IL 

Miscellaneous Subjects treated in the Notes. 



Acrostich,pa^^ 2 

Creek and Latin Quantity, 4, 
40 

Spirit, Sp'rit, C 

Growen, Owen, 6, xvi. 

Diphthong — Two successive 
Aspirations, 7 

The UI in Puissant, &c. 10 

Miite E formerly sounded, 10 

Words of double Termina- 
tion, II 

I^nglish Dactylic Verses, 13 

Aukward modern Imitations of 
ancient Metre, 15 

The Freiich Alexandrine, 21 

Anacreontic Measure — Miscon- 
ception respectiBg" it, 30 

Pindarics, 30 

Martial Metre— The Poet Tyr- 
ta3us, 33 

Exceeding fair— Passing* rich, 
38 

Poetic Licences of the An- 
cients, 39, 50, 50 

The Genitive ES — Queen 
Besses chin, 44 

Many a ...., 52 

Never so rich— «o/ Ever so, 64 

Lesser and Worser, 67 

Mistaken, not Mistaking, 68 

The EUin Orpheus, kc. 112 



Had rather — I were, 116 
Booby — whence derived, 117 
Satellites, 118 
Tauris, wof Taurida, 120 
Italian Derivations, 121 
Practitioner, improper, 122 
Patroclus,Damocles,&:c. — how 

accented, 125> 129 
Effect of Mute and Liquid in 

Greek and Latin, 126 
ApJime, Ap^mca, 128 
Folk, not Folks, 128 
And rod es or And rod us, 129 
Adjectives in ACEOUS and 
ACIOUS, materially inf- 
ferent in signification, 130 
Aloe, how pronounced, 134 
Epithet — Meaning- and Use of 

the term, 177 
Solecism in Pope's Homer, 181 
Adjectives elegantly substitu- 
ted for Adverbs, 185 
Thou and You — Change ov 

Number improper, 195 
Rapt, not Wrapped, 199 
Hyphen — Where to be inserted 

or omitted, 199 
Born, and Borne, 220 
Robinson Crusoe, 232 
The Y a distinct syllabk in 
Greek names, 240 



PROSODY. 



Prosody teaches the proper quantity and accent 
of syllables and words, and the measures of verses. 

Quantity J in prosody, means the length of sylla- 
bles in pronunciation — that is to say^ the length of 
time necessary for the proper utterance of each syl^ 
lable. 

Some syllables are long, as Note^ Hate, Neat : 
others are short, as Not^ Hat, Net : but the quantity 
or length of syllables is little regarded in English 
poetry, which is entireh' regulated by their number 
and accent. 

Accent is the emphatic tone with which some one 
syllable of a word is more forcibly sounded than the 
other syllable or syllables; as, in the vrords L6re/y, 
Isoveliness^ Beauty, Beautiful, the first syllable of each 
is accented; and, in Adore, Alone, Hemahiy the accent 
is laid on the final syllable. 

A verse is a single line of poetry, 

A hemistich is a half yerse '^. 

* In strict propriety, it means an exact bait verse : but, in the 
Oreek and Latin prosodies, whence the term is borrowed, it h 

A 



2 Prosody. 

A dktichy or couplet^ is two verses ; and the name 
is generally applied lo two verses comprising a com- 
plete sentence. 

A stanza (called likewise ^ state ) is a combination 
of several verses, wholly dependent on the poet's 
will, with respect to number, metre, and rhime, and 
forming a regular portion or division of a song, or 
other poem. 

Metre is the measure by which verses are com- 
posed, and by which they are divided in scanning-; 
and, in English poetry, th^ measure consists in the 
number of the syllables, and the position of the ac- 
cents. 

To scan * a verse is to divide it into its component 
parts, or feet. 

Rhime is a similarity and agreement of sound in 

also applied to a portion of a verse exceeding or falling short of 
the half, by one half foot. — The word Hemistich^ and likewise 
Tetrastich and Acroitichy being sometimes erroneously written 
with CKf merely in consequence of a typographic error in John- 
son's Dictionary, I wish my young readers to observe, that 
the former three, derived from the same Greek source with X)i- 
s^icA, ought, like it, to terminate with CjH, pronounced, of course, 
hard, as in Epoch, Stomach, Antioch. — Having incidentally 
mentioned the Acrostich, let me add to Dr. Johnson's definition 
of it, that the acrostich law extends to the final, as well as the 
initial, letter of each verse ; tiiere being still extant some ancient 
trifles of that description, in which the same words are acro- 
stichally displayed at both extremities of the lines. 

* Originally, to scajid, from the Latin scando (to climh) tlie 
term used for this process by the ancient Latin grammarians. 



Prosodj/. 3 

final syllables, as adore, deplore, — o\ei'tkrows, inter- 
pose. In regular verses, it includes only one syl- 
lable, as 

Ye nymphs of Solyma, begin the song! 
To heav'fily themes sublimer strains be/o72g. 

(Pope. 
Tn hypermeter or redundant verses, i.e. verses ex- 
ceeding the regular measure, it extends to two, the 
penultimate accented, the other not, as 
For what has Virro painted, built, ^nA plant-yed^ 
Only to show how many tastes he wantA-ed, (Pope, 
and, in careless burlesque versification, as that of 
Swift and Butler, we sometimes find redundant lines 
with a triplicate rhime,— the accent falling on the 
antepenultimate, which terminates the regular mea- 
sure, and no accent on either of the two supernume- 
rary syllables, as 

Uniting all, to show their a'\'mity, 
As in a general ca/a-1-m^y '^. (Swift, 
but such triplicate rhime is wholly inadmissible in 
any verse which at all aspires to the praise of dignity 
or harmony. 

Blank verse is verse without rhime. 

The Cmnra (which means a cut or division) is the 

separation, or pause, which takes place in the body 

of a verse in the utterance — dividing trie line, as it 

were, into two members: and, in different species of 

* These were not intended for regular ten-syllable lines: the* 
piece from which thej are quoted, is in eight-syD-^ble verse. 



^ Prosody. 

verse, or difFerent verses of the same species, thi.% 
pause occurs in dijfFerent parts of the line, as, for ex- 
ample — 

How empty learning/j| and how vain is art, 
But as it mends the ]ife/|| and guides the heart ! 
Poetic Feet. 
Afoot is a part of a verse, and consists of two or 
three syllables. 
A semifoot is a half- foot. 

The feet, chiefly used in Englisli poetry, are the 
following '^-— - 



* The names, here given to the feet and verses, are not, in 
strict propriety, applicable to English versification. In the 
Gre^k and Latin languages, from which they are borrowed, they 
have no reference to accent: the feet being there solely deter- 
mined by the qumtity^ or length of syllables, and consisting— 
the Jaw^j5w5, of one short syllable, and one long; — the Trochee, 
of one long and one short ;~-the Spondee, of two iong;~-the 
Fyrrhic, of two short ;— the Anapast, of two short and one long ; 
—the Ductal, of one long and two short; — the Trihrachys, of 
three short; — and the Amphihra§hjs, of one long between two 
short.-^However, as these Greek and Roman names of feet and 
verses have (with the substitution of English accent for Greek 
and Latin quantity) been applied to English versification by 
other writers before me, and as they are convenient terms to 
save circumlocution, I have deemed it expedient to adopt them 
after the example of my predecessors, and to apply to our «c- 
cented and un-accented syllables the marks generally employed 
to indicate long and short sj^llables in the Greek and Latin pros- 
odies; as, for example, the marks, thus applied to the Greek 
Fegasds, or the Latin Pegasus^ signify that the firj>t syllable 



Prosody/. 5 

The Iambus'^, consisting of two syllables/ the first 
un-accented> and the latter accented^ as adore, be- 
hind. 

The Trochee, of two syllables, the first accented, 
the latter un-accented, as holy ^ thundh\ 

The Spondee, of two syllables, both accented^ as 
why charge in the following line-- 
Why charge I we heav'n in those^ in these acquit ? 

(Pope. 

The Pyrrhic^ of two un-accented, as h to m the 
following verse — 
A choice collection ! what \2S to \ be done ? (Young. 

The Anapast, of two un-accented, and one ac- 
cented, as each of the four feet in the following line— 
(it the close I of'tht day^ \ whin tM hara-l-Ut ts stilL.. 

(Beattie. 

The Dactyl, of one accented, and two un-accented, 
as holiness, thundering, 

ot that animal's name is long, and the other two short; 
whereas, in English prosody, the same marks are to be under- 
stood as simply meaning, that the first syllable in Fegasus ia 
accented, and the other two un-accented. This obsejvatian 
applies to every other case, 

* This foot is sometimes improperly called an Iambic; which 
is equally wrong, as to say a Boyish or a Girlish, for a Boy or a 
Girl, — Iambus^ Trochee, Anapast, &c, are the substantive names 
of the feet themselves : but lamhic, Trochaic, Anapasiic, die. are 
adjectives, solely applicable to the metre, versC; or poem, con-r 
sisting of such feet.. 

A 3 



6 Prosody. 

The Tribrachys^ of three un-accented, as -ritual m 
the word Spiritual, ^-» 

The Jmphibrachi/s, of one accented, between-two 
un-accented, as removal coevaL 

Elision . — Synceresis, — Diuresis. 

In onr versification, we have very frequent exam- 
ples of elision and syncBresis-- none, or 'Very few, of 
dicsresis. 

Elision is of three kinds^ viz. 

1. Aph^dresis, which cuts off the initial letter or 
syllable of a word, as 'squire, 'gainst, 'gan, for esquire, 
against, begaji, 

£. Syncope^, which strikes out a letter or syllable 
from the body of a word, as spirit f for spirit— lov'd, 
tkund'ring, laVrer, for loved, thundering, laborer— 
^e'tmight for sevennight. 



* The use of syncope is not confined to verse : in prose also, 
numberless instances of it occur, as don^t for do not — zvond'raui 
for wonder ous — hast, hath, for the obsolete hwce&t^ havcth — 
grown, sown, for the antique growen, sowen — midst yfor middest, 
an old superlative from mid, &c. &c. 

Right in the middest of that ()aradise, 

There stood a stately mount fSpencer. 

The barren ground was full of wicked weeds, 
Which she herself had sozcen all about, 

Now growen great, at first of little seeds. (Spencer. 

f Converted, by the addition of E to lengthen the sound, into 
Sprite, which, together with Sprightly, proves that the syncope 
took place in the first syllable, and that the syncopated word 
was intended to be S§t^Tit, rhiming with Grit, not Spr't, rhinning 



Prosody. 7 

S, J/?oc6/>e, vvliich cuts off a final vowel or syl- 
labl€; or one or more letters, as Gi] for give, Fro' for 
fromy C for of , Th' evening for the evenings Philomel 
for Philomela. 

Sf/nceresis is the contraction of two syllables into 
one, by rapidly pronouncing, in one syllable, two or 
more vowels which properly belong to separate syl- 
lables, as AE in Israel, IE in Alienate, EE in E'en 
and £'^r, 10 in Nation : for, though the 10, in such 
terminations, be usually accounted a diphthong^. 



with Squirt^ as I have seen it printed in the foHowing line of 
Milton, Par. L. 5, 877— 

O alienate from God ! O spirit accurst ! 
* Diphthong. — Some late writers have directed us to pro- 
nounce this word as Dipthong, and some have even adopted that 
mode of spelling it; because, as one of them observes, "two 
aspirations in succession are disagreeable to an English ear.'' 
This may be partly true in some cases, on account of the ac- 
compani/ing consonants^ as '^ worth their while,'^ " both those 
men,'^ *^ come forth thence :'^ but, in ^* worth h'ls while/' " both 
his eyes," " he led forth his army," the double aspiration will, I 
believe, be found inore easy to the tongue, and 7?iore grateful 
to the ear, than the single one in " worth Is esteemed,'^ '^ the 
merit ofboM is equal,'* ^^ the For^^ is a Scottish river;'' the 
continued aspiration more softly blending and combining the 
syllables in ** worth Ms," " both his/* '^ forth his,'* without lea- 
ving that disagreeable chasm, or requiring that effort of the voice, 
which necessarily attend the utterance of " worth \s,** " both is,'' 
Fpr^/i is.'' But, to return to PHTH, let us see liow the doctrine 
of the double aspiration applies to it. That the Greek consonant, 
which we render by FHj was an aspirated P, is certain; and tha^ 



8 Prosody, 

and TION. of course, a single svllable, yet, in strict 
propriety, TI-ON are tvv) di^tine? syllables; and 



instead of writing, as we do, stop him, up hill, kept, him,^ a Greek 
would have ^-vritten stoph him, uph hill, kephth him How he 
pronounced the P thus aspirated, is of no consequence to 7is : 
but, in our pronunciation, the Greek PH and the English F are 
sounded so exactly alike, that any objection, which lies against 
the PH) will bear with equal force against .F. Now I submit to 
any of my readers, young or old, whether, in the following com- 
binations with TH, the F (or its equivalent GH) be not in reality 
much less difficult to the tongue, and less grating to the ear, 
than P — Charles the Jifthy Charles the Jipih — -a tough thongs 
tvip thong — a stiff" thorn , slip thorn — a rough //limhie, rup ^^imble 
—the gru^ ifAunderer, gruj? Munderer- — you have not enough 
//iought on it, ennp /bought — put off^ their clothes, op their — ^^a 
wh i/f' if Arough a pipe, whip ^/trough — qu?ff th\ck beer, quap thick 
— VL cough threatens a consumption, co;? ^Areatens-~i/ Theodore ^s 
vv'i/e i^/^inks, 'ip Theodore's wipe ^Ainks. In all these examples, I 
confidently anticipate the unanimous vote of my readers in favor 
of F : and so far indeed is the Enghsh ear or tongue from being 
shocked or embarrassed by the sound of JP before THy that the 
vulgar (whom one of the advocates of Dipthong holds up to us 
as *^ no contemptible guides'' in pronunciation) are often heard to 
aspirate the T, in after, laughter , left her, pronouncing aft her, 
lafiher, lefth her; to which may be added the Yorkshire " thrujf 
the world,'' for " through the world J' Hence it would appear, 
that the harsh and irregular dipthong did not originate from any 
repugnance of the English tongue or ear to the more smooth and 
regular dif thong, but from some other cause — very probably 
from the ignorance of some of those village dames of former days 
who initiated children in spelling— and who, not linowing tfje 
power of the E added to Pj taught the younglings to poavert 



Prosody. 9 

the same remark applies to Dubious, Duteous, Plen* 
ieous, Warrior, Sec. Besides these and similar ex- 
amples of synseresis, which take place in prose, the 
licence is carried further in poetry, where we find 
Virtuous, Arduous, Gradual^ Patriot, used as dissyl- 
lables, with many others which will occur in the 
following pages. 

Diaresish the division of one syllable into two, as 
when Puissant, Puissance^ which are properly dis- 



Seraph into Syrup, A nymph into An imp, Pheasant into Pea-^ 
sdnt, Diphthong into Dipthong, &c. — From them the corrup- 
tion spread among the lower class of the community, until 
rft length thei*- example was held up for the imitation of their 
betters, as a, late writer has seriously recommended to us to 
adopt their Sparrow-grasa instead of Asparagus, If the natural 
order of things is to be thus inverted — if the vulgar, instead of 
learning from their superiors, are to become theii n^odels and 
their teachers — then let Sphinx also be altered to Spink, which 
I suppose to be the prevalent pronunciation among the private 
soldiers of his majesty's foot guards ; for so I have heard the 
word very distiuctly pronounced by one of them, who was ex- 
plaining t« the bystanders the ornaments on the carriage of the 
Egyptian gun in St. Jameses Park, I hope, however, that none 
of my young readers will ever adopi either Spink^ Sparrow-grass^ 
or Dipthong] but invariahly pronounce PH as F, where* er they 
can so pronouijce it ; which they always can do in tlie body of a 
word, as Diphthongs Naphtha^ Ophthalmia, &c. There may 
indeed be some excuse for not so pronouncing it before Tif at 
the beginning of v/ords, ^s Phthisis, Phthia^ Phthiriasis, hecause 
it is there thought to be difficult of pronunciation ; though, for 
my part, I see no difficulty in it, if custom would only allow Ui 
to utter those words with ihe sound of FTH, 



10 Frosody. 

syllabics^ are (by a licence hardly allowable even in 
poetry) sounded pu-issant, pwissance ^, as in Somer- 
yille's Hobbinol, 3, 15 [— 

Though great the force 

Of this pu'issant arm, as all must own — 



* In the original French, the Ul of Puissant and Pinssance 
(as is well known to all who pronounce that language with pro- 
priety) is an inseparable diphthong, though very difficulr of ut- 
terance to those who have not, in early youth, enjoyed good 
opportunities of acquiring the genuine French pronunciation. 
Witness the broad W in our Etwee, instead of the thin delicate 
French Uin the original Etui — and the words Suite^ Cuisse, and 
Cuirass, which even our pronouncing dictionaries pervert into 
Sweet, Quiss, and Queer-ass; by ^vhich pronunciation, the true 
sound of the French diphthong is destroyed. — ^But, notwith- 
standing the difficulty of utterance, Milton has used the word as 
a dissyllable — 

Ouv fulssance is our own i our own right hands.. (P. L. 5, 864. 

...His puissance, trusting in th' Almighty's aid.... (6, IIP. 
Shakespear also has employed it as a dissyllable, in his 
Henry V. — 

Guarded by grandsires, babies, and old women, 
Or past or not arrived at pith and puissance — 
the latter being, not an Alexandrine of six feet, but a common 
five-foot Iambic with a redundant un-accented syllable at the 
end, like the verse immediately preceding it, and ten thousand 
others every-where occurring, more particularly in dramatic 
poetry. Spencer, too, (F.Q.I.) has the puis* in this word a 
single syllable — 

To pjTove his puissance in battle brave — 
the final JS, with its consonant, being sounded as a separate 
syllable ', a practice very frequent with Spencer and our other 



Prosody. 1 1 

But it were utterly wrong to shelter under this title 
the very improper division of the diphthong £(7, in 
Orpheus, an ' many other Greek names oF similar ter- 
mination—a division, unsanctioned by our poets, and 
justly reprobated by classical scholars, for reasons 
which wiii be found in a note to No. 248 of the fol- 
lowing Exercises. 



early bards, who, in that particular, imitated the example of the 
French poets, but with this difference, that, in French, even to^ 
the present day, the final un-accented E/though mute in prose, 
must necessarily be accounted a syllable in verse, unless elided 
by a vowel immediately following: e. gr. 

Je change le h^ros qui regna sur la France, 
Et par droit de conque^e et par droit de naissance— 
whereas, in English poetry, it was optional with the writer either 
to leave it mute, or to make it sound in a separate syllable, as 
Spencer has here done — pronouncing it, I presume, nearly like 
puiS'San-cj/ ; for we can still catch a last dying echo of the 
antique pronunciation in the words Bravery, Slaveri/, Finery^ 
Niceti/, Roguery — ta say nothing of Handiwork, Handkraft, 
and the vulgar Workyday, which were originally Hande-zoorky 
Hande-craft, Worke-day, i. e. in modern orthograpliy, Hand- 
znork, Hand-craft, Work-day, From the licence of thus arbi- 
trarily sounding or not sounding the final E, seems to have arisen 
that very convenient duplicity of termination (ANCE, ANCY 
— ENCE, ENCY) which our language has allowed to a pretty 
numerous class of words adopted from the French, as Repugn 
nance, Repugnancy, Indulgence, Indulgency ; though, as most 
of those words were originally borrowed from the Latin, which 
terminates them in ANTIA and ENTIA, if any person choose 
to maintain that we took ANCY and ENCY from the Latin, 
ANCE and ENCE from the French, I ara not disposed to 
quarrel with him on that account. 



12 Prosodj/, 

Verses. 
Every species of English verse, of whatever cleno- 
niination, regularly terminates with an accented syl- 
lable : but every species^ without exception, admits, 
at the end, an additional un-accented syllable, pro- 
ducing (if it be rhimed verse) a double rJiime, that is 
to say, a rhime extending to two syllables, as 

Beauty Pursuing I Resounded 

Duty Renezding \ Confounded — 

and this additional syllable does not at all affect the 
measure or rhythm of the preceding part of the verse, 
which remains precisely the same as if the supernu- 
merary syllable were not added. But, in all such 
cases, it is indispensably necessary that the rhime 
should thus begin on the penultimate accented syl- 
lable, which receives so great a stress of pronuncia- 
tion : otherwise, there would, in fact, be no rhime at 
all, as Party, for example, could not be said to rhime 
with Beauty, nor Retreating with Pursuing, though 
the final syllables are, in both cases, the same. 

A verse, of whatever kind, thus lengthened with a 
redundant syllable, is called hypermeter (which li- 
terally signifies over-measure, or exceeding the due 
measure). 

In our blank heroic verse, this addition to the 
metre frequently renders a very important and ad- 
vantageous service, in producing a soft easy cadence 
at the close of along period, wliere the hypermeter 
verse stands single: but, in our rhimed l?imh\c di- 
stichs, of whatever measure, the hypei-^eter (neces- 



Prosody. 15 

sarily coupled in pairs) is little adapted to Solemn, 
grand, or lofty themes : it generally gives to the cou- 
plet a cast of levity and flippancy> better suited to 
light compositions on more familiar subjects *. 'In the 
Trochaic verse, on the other hand, it produces a 
very happy and pleasing ejffect : in that light, 
sprightly, dancing metre, it is perfectly in character ; 
the duplicate rhime— or, to speak more correctly, 
the supernumerary un-accented syllable, indepen- 
dent of the rhime — improving its natural lightness 
and sprightline^ss. 

English verses may be divided into three classes, 
and, from the feet of which they principally consist, 
may be denominated Iambic, Trochaic^ and Ana* 
pcBstic f . 

* Mrs Barbauld, however, has not unhappily employed 
double-rhimed Iambics in some of her Hymns. 

t It might be thought improper to pass, wholly unnoticed, a 
fourth species — the Dactylic — of which Mr. Murray observes, 
that it is " very uncommon ;'' and indeed he has not quoted any 
admissible example of such metre; for, as to that which he ad- 
duces, thus marked with the appearance of three dactyls-— 

From the low pleasures of this fallen nature — 
I cannot discover in it even one real dactyU — If the fault be 
mine, I am sorry for it ; but I have been taught (whether right or 
wrong, I leave to better scholars than myself to determine) 
that, in scanning verse, whether Greek, Latin, or English, we are 
not allowed arbitrarily to connect or disjoin syllables, with the 
view of producing whatever kind and number of feet we choose ; 
much less to alter, at our pleasure, the accent or quantity of syl- 
lables for that purpose, as in From, Low, and Fall, in the exam- 

B 



14 Prosody. 

Iambic Verses. 
Pure Iambic verses contain no crther foot than 
the Iambus, and are uniform!}^ accented on the $c^ 



pie above quoted ; but that each foot must independently stand 
OB its own ground, without any violation of accent or quantity ; 
and that we must produce the due number of feet, whatever 
those feet may be : otherwise there would be an end of all metre; 
and no reader could tell the difference between verse and prose. 
The observance of those rules, of which I never have heard the 
propriety disputed, compels me, however reluctant, to differ 
from Mr. Murray, and to scan the verse as follows — 

From thg | low plea-|-siires iSf ] this fall-|-^n na-[I-ttii'e — 
making it a five-foot lamhicy with a redundant syllable at the 
end, as is common in every kind of English metre, without ex- 
ception. And, with respect to the measure of the five feet (ex- 
clusive of the odd syllable), it is only such as may often be found 
in our five-foot Iambics, as in the following examples, which 
have the words Trom the rich, and Treasures of, in exactly the 
same positions, and to be of course accented and scanned in the 
*ame manner, as From the low and Pleasures of in the verse 
above — 

Fr^m the \ rich store | one fruitful urn supplies, 
Whole kingdoms smile, a thousand harvests rise. (Goldsmith. 
^..Extols i the frea-l'Sures of \ his stormy seas, 
And his I eg nights of revelry and ease. (Goldsmith, 
On the subject of dactylics, let me observe, that, of fourteen dif- 
ferent ibnns of dactylic metre, which I have descrihed in my 
" Latin Prosodi/,^^ twelve are utterly repugnant to the genius of 
our language, except indeed that some few of the twelve might 
perhaps, hy n>ea'ns of that troublesome expef'-ent, the double 
xhime, be rendered tolerable to an English ear. — Some attempts 
were made in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries to hitro- 



Prosody. 15 

condyfourthy and other even syllables ; the odd syl- 
lables being ua-accented. But the number of pure 



duce the dactylic metre, as witness the following curious 
sample.— 

5 PhaiSoh, m^y we go r PhSj^oh said," Gang, an ye can gang"— 
but it did not succeed. Nor was it more successful in France, 
where it was also attempted about the same period ; though it 
appears to somewhat less disadvantage in the following speci- 
men — a translation from Martial, 8,^1— 

Aube, rSbaille le jour: pourqudi notre aise retiens-tu? 
Cesar doit rSv^nir : aube, rebaille le jour. 
An elegant and ingenious poet of the present day has, in one of 
his sportive moments, made a new attempt at English dactylics, 
without rhime : but he unfortunately chose one of those " un* 
English'^ fovms of the dactylic, in which he could not reasonably 
hope for success ; and, though his other poems will undoubtedly 
pass to posterity with applause, I venture to predict that his dac- 
tylics wiii not find many admirers or imitators. Captain Morris, 
howeve. , nas, with ludicrous felicity, employed rhimed dactylics 
in some of his pieces : but neither will he^ I presume, have many 
imitators : for, as the metre in question consists entirely of dac- 
tyls, if we wish to render it in any degree tolerable to an English 
ear, we must close the verse with a trisyllabic rhime, as 
thundertngf zeondering— society^ notoriety ; it being necessary, 
as I have before observed, that the rhiuie should aJv^^ayi begin on 
an accented syllable ; and what one of a thousand poets will have 
the patience to seek, or the ingenuity to find, a suihcient number 
of such rhimes? Besides, this triplicate rhime, however well it 
may occasionally be suited tojight, careless, jocular composi- 
tions, would leave our dactylics wholly destitute of poetic dignity 
and grace. — There are, however, two forms of the dactylic metre, 
which our language might very well admit, the one consisting of 
two, and the other of three dactyls, followed, in each case, by an 

B £ 



l6 Prosody. 

Iambics, found in the writings of onr poets, bears a 
small proportion to that of the mixed Iambics, in 
whose composition are admitted other feet besides the 
Iambus, as I shall hereafter show ; contenting myself 



accented syllable. Thus constituted, they would be exactly 
equivalent to anapaestics deprived of the first semi-foot, as will 
appear by the following exemplification — 
Anapastic — 

We speak | 5f th^ po-j-ets, wh5 choose, | fdr th^ir lay, 

The rae-t-tr^ d^cty-]-llc, s5 live-j-ly and gay — 

The po-j-^ts, wh5 chOose, | f5r th^ir | lay, 

A me*|-trg s5iXve-l-ly ^nd gay — 
Dactylic — 

Speak 5f thg | po^ts, wh5 | choose, f6r thSir | lay, 

Metr^ dSc-l-tyllc, s6 | lively ^nd [ gay — 

PoSts, wh5 j choose, f6r th^ir j lay, 

MetrS s5 \ live-j-ly ind | gay— • 
it;<d indeed I have, in different poems, seen some odd terscs of 
the kind accidentally interspersed among anapaestics ; though I 
did not think them worthy of notice, accounting them only as 
imperfect anapaestics; which, in fact, they were, since it was for 
anapsestics that the writers had intended them. But, if adopted 
us a distinct and independent metre, and professedly used as 
such^I conceive that the longer of the two measures could 
hardly fliil to command the approbation of the public. At the 
same time, however, I foresee that the poet who adopts either of 
them, will find sufficient exercise for his patience and ingenuity, 
from the difficulty of always finding an' accented emphatic syl- 
lable for the beginning of his line^ where Or, For, To, In, And, or 
some equally undignified monosyllable, will often importunately 
obtrude itself for admission: and, from this circumstance, he 
will frequently find anapsestic lines steal in un-observed among 
bis dactylics, as Iambic lines steal in upon writers who are com- 
posing in Trochaics.— See " Trochaic J^ 



Prosody, I7 

meanwhile with describing the different kinds as 
pure Iambics. 
The following rude line of fourteen monosyllables — 

H5vv blithe wh^n f jrst from far \ came, t5 woo ^nd win thd maid— 

contains an exeniphfication of all the regular forms 

of English Iambics, amounting to seven, viz. 

How blithe, when first from far I came, to woo and win the maid. 

When fir&t from far I came, to woo and win the maid. 

From far I came, to woo and win the maid. 

I came to woo and win the maid. 

To woo and win the maid. 

And win the maid. 

The maid. 

and, with the addition of the ua-accented syllable 

EN at the end of each, to convert Maid into Maidtrij 

it will moreover furnish seven hypermeters — in all, 

fourteen forms of the Iambic*. 

The seven regular forms are likewise found in 
the following lines f. — 

Behold, 

How short a span 

Was long enough, cf oFd, 

To measure out the life of man. 

In those well-temper d da^s, his time was then 

Surveyed, cast up, and found but three-score years and tenr 

And yet, though brief, how few would wish to live their term againf 

* To which if we add the six regular form& of Trochaic, and 
six more with the additional sjllable^ this same liae will serve 
to exemplify Uoenty^six different forms of English metre, consist* 
ing of alternate long and short syllables. — See ** Trochaic,'- 

\ The first six of these lines are a stanza of a curious old poem 
published ia the Lady's Magazine for 1806; page 556— tlie se 






l8 Prosody. 

Iambic of seven feet ^ or fourteen syllables. 

and thrice | herout-j-ed all | his foes, | and thrice { 
he slew | the slain. (Dryden* 

This is the old English ballad-measure, and was 
originally intended for a single verse, as appears by 
the following line of Cowley, which has not the 
ccdsura after the eighth syllable, but which, on that 
account, is certainly less pleasing to the ear — 
The vessel breaks, and oiit the wretched reliquaerun 
at last. 

It was indeed usual to make the caesura take place 
"between the eighth and ninth syllables, as we see in 
our old ballads, and likewise in our metrical version 
of the Psalms — 

The gallant greyhounds swiftly ran, j| to chase the 
fallow deer — (Chevy Chase. 

Behold, the wicked borrows much, |[ and payeth 
not again— (Psalms. 

from which circumstance, it became easy to divide 
the line into two verses, and thus convert each di- 
stich into a tetrastich stanza, as modern writers have 
done, sometimes without and sometimes with rhime 
to the first and third lines, as 

Before the ponderous earthly g/o5e 
In fluid air was stayM, 



venth, an exteiDpore supplement of my own, added merely foi^ 
ti the purpose of exempUHcation* 



Prosody. I9 

Before the ocean's mighty springs 

Their liquid stores display 'd (Mrs. Rovve. 

But oars aloae can ne'er prevail 
To reach the distant coast. 

The breath of heav'n must swell the sail; 
Or all the toil is lost. (Cowper. 

When written with only a single pair of rhimes, 
as in the former of these examples^ it is by far the 
most easy and convenient metre in the English lan- 
guage, not only because it has the fewest rhimes, but 
because, in that simple and homely form, it admits a 
certain degree of quaintness, a familiar simplicity of 
thought and diction, which would hardly be allow- 
able in any other species of verse. But, when it is 
furnished with two pair of rhimes, as in the latter 
example, it commonly assumes a higher character,, 
refuses to stoop so low in quaintness of idea and 
language, and may, from the great frequency of its 
rhimes, be considered as one of the most difficult of 
our metres. 

There sometimes occurs, in old ballads, a variety 
of this metre, which I should not have deemed 
worthy of notice, if it had not been studiously 
adopted by some polished writers, who have thus 
given to it a degree of consequence, which otherwise 
it never would have enjoyed *. The variation con- 



* I purposely omit, in the following pages, several, wild irre- 
gular violations of metre^ occurring particularly in songs written 



20 Prosody. 

sists in the omission of the eightli semifoot, leaving- 

a single syllable instead of the fourth foot, as 

Then down j she sunk, i despair- j-z;2o-,^ || upon the 

drifted snow. 
And, wrung f with kilH-ing mA^guuh, \\ lamented 

loud her woe— 
so that, if the line be divided into two verses, 
the first contains only three feet and a half, or seven 
syllables, while the latter has its due measure of three 
feet : e. gr. 

Twas when | the seas | were roar-l-2wg 

With hollow blasts of wind, 
A dam-1-sel lay ( deplo-l-rmg, 

All on a rock reclin'd. (Gay. 
Hypermeter, with double rhime — 
When he was dead, and laid in grave, her heart was 

struck with sor-l-row. 
^^O mother! mother! make my bed; for I shall 
die to mar-l-rdw.'^ (B^lhdoi ^^ Barbara Allen*'* 

2. lamhic of six feet y or fwehe syllables. 
Thy realm ] for e-l-ver lasts: [| thy own | MessI-1 
-ah reigns. (Pope. 

by persons either regard less or ignorant of tbe laws of versifica- 
tion. To constitute verse, it is not sufiicient that a number of 
jarring syllables be ranged in uncouth lines with rhime at the 
end I order, regularity, symmetry, hajmopy, are requisite; 
otherwise we might apply the name of verse to Swift's " Petition 
of Mrs, Harrisy^^ because tbe terminations of. the 3ent^nc$5 are 
made to rhime I 



Prosody. ^1 

This metre is called the Alexandrine; and the 
yerse, when properly constructed, ought always to 
have the caesura between the sixth and seventh sylla- 
bles. It is, comparatively, little used in English 
composition, though adopted, as their common he- 
roic measure, by our French neighbours, who have 
in it entire poems, tragedies, comedies, &c. &c. 
which, from the dull unvaried uniformity of the 
caesura perpetually recurring after the third foot, 
cannot, to an English ear, be otherwise than disgust- 
ingly monotonous*. To nii/ ear, at least, they are so, 
though accustomed to them from early youth. — In 
our English poetry, the Alexandrine appears to much 
greater advantage ; not being uniformly continued 
in succession f, but employed as the closing line in the 

* Why is not oar English ^)allad-nieasure equally tiresom* 
and disgusting, since it is as regularly divided at a particular 
stage of the verse, as the French Alexandrine ?-— The difference 
is obvious and striking. Our liae of fourteen syllables is not di- 
vided i^ito exact halves, but into members of unequal lengths, 
viz. eight syllables and six; the eight-syllable portion admitting, 
moreover, within its own compass, an additional and varied 
casura : and these two circumstances sufficiently guard against 
that monotonous sing-song uniformity which is so irksome in the 
French heroics, where we find nought but six and six and six and 
six — the same numbers, the same cadences, from the beginning 
of a volume t® the end, without the smallest variety, to relieve 
the ennui of a wearied and impatient ear. 

1 1 here speak of our general practice only ; for there are 
some particular exceptions of English poems entirely written in 
the Alexandrine metre. 



QiQ, Prosody/. 

old heroic stanza of Spencer and his imitators, or 
sparingly introduced (in single lines) among our ten- 
sjUable heroics^ and in bold, irregular ode^ \ in both 
which situations, it often produces a very fine effect, 
by giving a strongly impressive weight, emphasis, 
and dignity to a concluding sentiment or image. 

Hypermefer, with double rhime — 
\ • • .That never thought one thing, || but doubly still 
was gui'l'ded. (Spencer. 

3. Iambic ofJLve feet, or ten syllables. 

This is our heroic metre — the principal metre 
in our language — and is perbcips* the only species 
of English verse which can nobly sustain its dignity 
without the artificial jingle of rhime— that meretri- 
cious ornament of barbarous origin, wholly unknown 
to the immortal bards of ancieni Greece and Rome, 
The five-foot Iambic is happily adapted to themes of 
every col-r and every degree, from the most exalted 
to the most humble and famiJiar, and is used with or 
without rhime, as 
The svvain | with tears [ his frus-j-trate la-l-bor yields, 

and fa-1-mish'd dies | amid j his rl-j-pen'd fields. 

(Pope. 

in sable pomp, with all her starry train, 

The JNight resumed her throne, RecalFd from war. 

Her long-protracted labors Greece forgets. (Gloveiv 

* I say ^^ perhaps,^ because Mr. Southey's Thalaba might be 
quoted to prove that others also of our metres may sometimes 
dispense with rhime. 



Prosody, 23 

Further on, 1 shall make a few remarks on the 
structure and variations of this species of verse, 

Hypermeter ^ with double rhime — 
In moderation placing all my g/o-|-ry, 
While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a To-i'Vy, 

(Pope. 

Imnbic of four feet j or eight syllables. 
of Plea-]-sure's gild-|-ed baits | beware. 
Nor tempt | the Si-|-ren's fa-|-tal snare (Cotton. 
This metre is chiefly used in songs, fables, and 
other light compositions, and is frequently ahernated 
in stanzas with the Iambic of six syllables — the two 
together constituting, as before observed^ the old 
ballad-measure of fourteen: e. gr. 
Alasl by some degree of woe, 

Weev'ry bliss must gain. 
The heart can ne^er a transport know. 

That never feels a pain. (Lyttelton. 

The four-foot Iambic is sometimes called HudU 
brastic, from Butler's poem of Hudibras, written in 
such measure. But that appellation is not applied to 
verses which have any claim to poetic terseness or 
harmony: it is only when the lines are carelessly 
scribbled in a coarse, uncouth, slovenly, prosaic man- 
ner, that they are termed Hiidibrastic. 
Hypermeter, with double rhime — 
Exulting, trembUng, xdi^mg, faint -{'ing, 
Possess'd beyond the Muses^patW-j-zT/g. (Collins. 

* Sec the note on this orthography in ppge 44*. 



24 Prosody. 

Iambic of three feet, or six si/Uabies* 

Thou lov'st I to lie, | and hear 
The roar | of wa-!-ters near. (Southey. 
This metre is hardly used, except in stanzas, alter- 
nately with the Iambic of eight syllables, and in ir- 
regular odes. — Sometimes, however, it is used un- 
mixed, and with alternate rhime, as 
Our English then in fight 

Did foreign foes subdue. 
And forc'd them all to flight, 
When this old cap was new* 

(Song of *' Time's Alteration/' 
Hypermeter, with double rhime — 

'Twas when the seas were roar-[-2W|^....., 
A damsel lay dep/5r-l-mg. (Gay. 
This latter is the measure to which Anacreon tuned 
his lyre, in those sweet little songs, which, after the 
lapse of above two thousand years, are still univer- 
sally admired by all readers of taste. He, however, 
made an occasional variation, which would not be 
quite so agreeable in our language as it is in the 
Greek, and which shall be noticed under the head of 
Trochaics: 



Iambic of two feet, or four syllables. 
With ra-|-vish'd ears 
The mo-l-narch hears, 
assumes j the god, 

affects I to nod. (Dryden. 

This metre is occasionally blended with verses of 



Prosody. 2o 

diiyereiit kiiids^ to diversify tlie irregular ode— the 
only purpose for which it caa be advantageously 
employed; for, although it might, as a continued 
metre, be well enough suited to light sportive themes^ 
it v?ould be next to impossible, even in a moderate 
number of successive lines, to find a rhime for every 
fourth syllable. 

llj/per/nekr, with double rhime— 

W hh other an-\-guish 

I scorn to Idn-l-guhh. (Thomson. 



The Iambic of one foot ^ or tzco sj/llables, 
etmnot be used as an independent metre, but may, 
as an auxiliary, be employed in stanzas of diversified 
measure, for the sake of variety — as the following 
eight, which are the first lines of as many stanzas in 
that curious old poem from which I have quoted one 
tor an exeaiplilication of the Iambic metres, in 
page 17- 



How vain 
They be ! 
How s5or> 
They end ! 



BebSld ! 
alas! 
oftr days 
we spend. 

Jlypermctcr, zoUh double rhime — 

Smround-l-td, 

Con/oundA-aL . . . (Anon. 



Trochaic Verses 
are, in reality, only defective lambicg— that is to say, 
Iambics wanting the first syllable, as 

G 



"^o Frosody, 

Vital spark of heav'nly flame. (Pope, 
which line, scanned as Iambic, has a broken foot at 
the beginning — 

^ VT-l-lal spark j of heav'n-1-ly flame- 
scanned as Trochaic, it has the broken foot at tl.e 
end- 
Vital [ spark of j heav'nly ) flame ^ — 

In like manner, if we cut off the first syllable from 
any other form of tlie Iambic, we shall equally find 
that it may be scanned in both ways, with the defi- 
ciency of a semifoot at the beginning or the end, ac- 
cording as we scan it in Iambuses or Trochees. 

Thus, the line which I have given as an exempli- 
fication of the Iambic metres in page i/, if de- 
prived, in each form, of its first syllable, becomes 
Trochaic, viz. 

hozo) Blithe, \Yl]en [ first from | far K | came, t6 | vroo and | vnn 

th^ I maid. 
mhen) First fr5m | far i \ came, to | woo Snd | win the | maid, 
from) Far t| came, to | woo ^rid j win the | maid. 
i) Came, t5 | woo Snd | win the { maid. 
to) Woo ^iid I v\in the ] maid, 
and) Win the j maid. 

and thus we see, that what we call Trochai'cs, regw 
larly terminate in an accented syllable, as is the case 
in every other form of English metre ; though, like 
every other form, they also admit an additional un- 
accented syllable at the end, producing a double 
rhime ; so that, by changing 3faid to Maiden in each 
of the preceding lines (as heretofore in the Iambics, 



Prosodj/. £7 

page 17) we shall have twelve forms of Trochaic 
metre '^. 

* It may, at first sight, appear capricious in me, and even 
preposterous, to consider the defective verses as the regular Tro- 
chai'cs, and to account those as irregular^ which have the addi- 
tional un-accented syllable, and are thus divisible into exact tro- 
chees, without either deficiency or redundancy. Had! been un- 
acquainted with the Latin Trochaics and Iambics, I should cer- 
tainly have done just the reverse. But, when I rejected, that, 
in Latin versification, the affinity between the Trochaic and the 
Iambic is very intimate, as indeed it also is in English — that the 
grand LatinJIVochaic of seven feet and a half is only the greater 
Iambic deprived of its first semifoot, as I have shown in my 
*' Latin Frosody^' — and that those two forms are indiscrimi- 
nately blended in the ancient comedies — I naturally' paused to 
examine how the case stood in our English versification. Here 
too I found that the Iambic and the Trochaic were in fact the 
same, with only the difference of the first syllable, sometimes 
inserted, sometimes omitted, as we very frequently see in our 
Anapaestic verses, where the omission of the first syllable hardly 
produces any perceptible difference in the measure, and none in 
the rhythm or cadence; the remainder of the line being accented, 
scanned, and pronounced in the same manner, whether the first 
foot consist of two syllables or of three. Accordingly, Milton 
makes no distinction between the Iambic and the Trochaic, la 
the Allegro and the Fenseroso, he mixes them without the 
smallest discrimination, uniting them even in the same couplet, 
of which the one line contains eight syllables, wliile its fellow is 
stinted to seven, accented, however, in the same manner as the 
corresponding syllables of the longer line, measured backward 
from the end, as, for example — 

^ Come, I but keep | thy w6nt-|-ed state,] 

With e-l-ven step | and mu-|-sing ga.it,| (II Fenseroso, 
In paodern times, the practice is the same. To instance from 



£S Prosody, 

But^ of the six leguLnr forms al)Ove exemplified, 
raid tlie six hypermeiers related to them, the first 



an elegant poetess of our own day, we see, in Mrs, Barbaold's 
r.ddress *^ to Wisdom," 

^ Hape|vvith ea-jger spi^ir-1-kllng eyes,] 
And cu-l-sy faith, |and fond j surprise, | 

With respect to the additional un-accented syllable, making 
double rbime and" exact trochees, that is a purely adventitious 
and accidental circumstance, as is gufficiently proved by the ex- 
r^mple of Milton, who, in one and the same couplet, equally 
makes the addition to the complete Iambic, as to the defective 
line which we call Trociiaic, viz. 

^ Th^nlto come, [ in spite | of si)r-\\-row 

And at I my win-j-dow bid ) good niur-W-rozi: — (L*Allegyo^ 

for surely nobody can suppose that hi: intended the latter of 
these lints fur Trochaic. — On the whole, then, as all our other 
metres regularli/ icrmmrMe with an accented sylloble ; '<>s tf;e 
addition of the supcnuiraerary un-accented syllable is an arbi« 
trary licf jice of the poet, and, in fact, only a privileiied anomaly, 
whici: equally takes place in ererv other form of English verse; 
as the omission of the first syllable creates uo dilTerence in the 
nature of the Anapcestic verse; and as the poets make, in 
reality, no distinction between the Iambic line of eight syllables 
and the Iambic or Trochaic of seven ; I conclude, that what we 
call Trochnics, are only defective Iambics, rf^^T^r/r/y termina- 
ting in an accented syllahie ; and^that thos;e which liave the 
additional un-accented syllable, are irregular hyperweter lines, 
although they accidentolly happen to make even trocliees, and 
although some poets liave written entire pieces in that irregular 
measure, as indeed every other kind of defective, redundant, cr 
otWwise anomalous metre, has occasionally pleased the fancy of 
some writer, who chose to employ it in his compositions. 



Prosody. 29 

three in each class are either not at all used, or at 
least so very rarely, as not to be worthy of further 
notice in these pages. Indeed, not one of them 
would be at all pleasing to a poetic ear ; their too 
great length being inconsistent with that rapid easy 
lightness and volubility which we wish and expect 
from the defiilcation of the regular Iambic metre. 
The longest regular Trochaic which has any claim 
to our attention, is the 

Trochaic of three feet and a half, 
Man a-l-lone, ui^j-lent to \ stray, 
ever | turns from ] wisdom's | way. (Moore. 
This metre is admirably calculated for light, lively, 
cheerful subjects: but it is an extremely difficult 
metre to any poet who wishes to write a// Trochaics, 
without a mixture of eight-syllable Iambics: and 
the cause is obvious — a^the, and, of for^ ^nd other 
un-emphatic monosyllables, will frequently present 
themselves for admission at the beginning of the line, 
where one of them will prove a very aukward stum- 
bling-block in the poet's way. If he adopt that 
puny monosyllable to begin a seveiusyllabie line, he 
spoils his verse, which is thus destitute of the neces- 
sary accent and emphasis on the first syllable. If he 
seek to avoid that inconvenience, and cannot entirely 
discard the obnoxious monosyllable, he must make 
the line a perfect Iambic of four feet complete, with 
the accent on the even syllables: and such indeed is 

c 2 



so Prosody. 

the practice of our best poets^ ia whose effusions we 
very frequently observe that the perfect Iambic has 
iin*avoidab]y and imperceptibly crept in among the 
Tfochai'cs, so that it is very rare to find even a score 
of Trochaic lines unmixed with perfect Iambics. 

This form of the Trochaic is sometimes called 
Anacreontic, but very erroneously, as Anacreon's 
metre is quite different '^. 



* It is easy to account for the-error. — Some English poet, ac- 
quainted with Anacreon, wrote, like him, on light lively subjects 
^ — like him, also, in light easy style — like him, too, in short 
metre, though different from that of the Greek songster. From 
those features of partial resemblance, he styled his pieces Anij^ 
creontic, as we give the name of Pindaric to odes composed in 
the bold irregular manner of Pindar, though not written in 
Pindar's metre. Hence the English reader, equally un-acquainted 
with Anacreon in the original Greek, and with the imitations of 
his metre in Latin, erroneously conceived, that, in those English 
productions, tiie metre itself was Anacreontic — an egregious 
error, excusable however in him, though it would be unpardon* 
able in any classical scholar. In short, as already observed in 
page 24, the metre in which Anacreon chiefly wrote, and which 
alone bears the title of Anacreontic in Greek and Latin, is our 
three-foot Iambic with a supernunierary short syllable, and with 
the first foot sometimes an anapaest, as here exemplified in two 
of his own lines — 

6l6-]-lS, ma-|-ter, ei-|-pen 

apol6i-j-t^ prd-|-t6s au-j-tos...* 

in the former of which lines, his metre is exactly this — 

'Tw^s when | the seas ] were roar-j-ifng... 
^ dam-j-sel lay j d^plor-|-j[ng — 

m the latter, 

Uw^s when ) th^ seas ] v^rere roar-[-ing.,. 
Th^t a dara-1-s^llay | deplor-j-ing 



Prosocli/. 31 

Hi/permcter, with double rftdrne — 

Trembling, j hoping, ( ling'nng, \flyirig. 

oh ! the I pain, the | bliss^ of | dymg! (Pope.. 



Trochaic of two feet and a half 
Pirthee, [ why so | pale ? (Suckling. 
This measure n little used, and cannot be employed 
to advantage^ except occasioiially, for the sake of 
variety, in mixed stanzas of various metre. 
Ilypermeter, with double rhime — 

LoQdly ! roars the j thunder. (Anon. 



The Trochaic of one foot and a half 
may not unaptly be called the Lilliputian Trochaic, 
partly from the brevity of its measure^ partly from 
the circumstance of its having been so characteristi- 
cally employed by Gay in his Lilliputian odes to 

Gulliver; e. gr. 

See him | stride 

Valleys j wide, 

over j woods, 

over I floods, Sec. 
Except on some Lilliputian occasion of similar 
kind, this metre cannot otherwise be employed than 
in diversifying mixed stanzas consisting of diiFerent 
kinds of verse. 

Hupermeter, with double rhime — 

Soft de-j-wla/s 

Are but j trials, (Hughes 



32 Prosodi/^ 

Anapc^stic Verses ■ 

properly consist of anapaests alone, as 

The misfor-j-tiines that fall | to the lot | of the great. 

(Ainsty. 

The first foot, however, in all the different forms of 
Anapaestic metre, may be a foot of two'syllables ; 
and, provided that the latter syllable of that foot be 
accented; as is the case in the spondee and iambus, 
the sj^llabic difference between either of those feet 
and the anapaest, in the first station of the verse, 
hardly produces (as before observed under the head 
oi Trochdics) £iwy perceptible difference in the mea- 
sure, and none at all in the rhythm or cadence; the 
remainder of the line being accented, scanned, and 
pronounced in the same manner, whether the first 
foot consist of two syllables or of three. But the 
Pyrrhic and Trochee, which have not the second 
syllable accented, are, on that account, inadmissible. 

The Anapaestic metre is happily adapted to themes 
of every kind, except the heroic, for which it does 
not possess, in an adequate degree, the necessary 
character of masculine energy and dignified eleva- 
tion,~-In stanzas of four-foot lines with alternate 
rhime, it well accords with grave, solemn, melancholy 
musings^: in stanzas alternately subjoining verses 
of three feet to verses of four, or entirely consisting 
of three-foot verses with alternate rhime, it is admi- 

'^ 'Tis night; and the landscape is lovely no more, 
I mourn : but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you ; 



Prosody. 33 

rably suited to soft, tender, sentimental, pathetic 
subjects; while, in rhimed couplets of the long 
measure, it is conveniently subservient to wit, hu* 
mour, mirth, festivity, ridicule, satire — to the ani- 
mated effusions of martial enthusiasm^ or the proud 
exultation of triuaiph ^. — On subjects of terrific 
complexion, Mr. Lewis has very successfully em- 
ployed Anapaestic stanzas of five iines^ of four feet 
and three. 



Anapa^tic of four feet . 
^Tis the voice \ of the slug-1-gard : i hear | hiai 



complain : 



For morn is approacliirig, your charms to restore, 

PtrfuiiiM with fresh fragrance, and glitiMng with devv» 

Nor ^'et for the ravage of winter I mourn : — 
Kind Nature the embryo blossom shall save : 

Bat when shall spring visit the mouldering urn ? 

Oh I when sliali it ddwn on the night of the grave r (Beattie* 

* If, like T^jtieus of old, I had to uwake dormant valour with 
tVe', oice of song, 1 would, in preference to every other form 
cf Engli-ih !nei!e. clioose the Anapsestic of four feet in couplets, 
which — if well written, in real anapaests un-encumbered with an 
undue weight of heavy syllables, and judiciously aided by appro- 
priate music — could hardly fail to martialise even shivering cow- 
ards', and warm them into heroes ; the brisk animating march of 
the verse having the same effect on the soul, as the body expe- 
riences from the quick lively step, which, by accelerating the 
circulation of the blood, at once warms and dilates the heart 
and renders the warrior more prompt to deeds of prowess.— 
Many lines may be ^om\d m Mr. Lewis's productions, which 
would justify my choice, and a few in No. 770 of the following 
Exercises. 



34 Prosody. 

^^ You have wak'd \ me loo soon : | i miist sluni-|-ber 

again." (Watts. 

Tht spar'\''\b\Y and liivl-net will feed | from your 

hand, 
Grow tame \ at j^oiir kind-i-ness, and come ] at com- 
mand. (Garrick. 
This tnetie is sometimes called Ansteian or Ain* 
steiari) from Mr. Ainsty, who successfully employed 
it in his ^^ Nez0 Bath Gtiide;'^ and it is perhaps 
(with the exception of the old ballad-measure) the 
easiest metre in our language, to a writer who can 
reconcile his ear to more than one heavy or accented 
sylhible in each foot. But, to a poet who wislies to 
write real anapaests of two perfectly light syllables 
and only one heavy or accented^ it is perhaps ihe 
most difficult — more so even than the pure 'JVochaic 
— because the number of monosyllabic substantives, 
adjectives, and verbs, with which our language 
abounds, and which cannot be made to glide off 
smoothly without any accent, renders it almost 
impossible to find a constant supply of pure real 
anapaests. Accordingly, in the very best of our ana- 
paestic productions, we frequently meet with lines in 
which we are compelled either to injure the sense by 
slightly passing over syllables which justly claim no- 
tice and emphasis, or to retard the speed of the verse, 
by laying on those syllables a weight of accejit too 
heavy for the rapid course of the real anapsest. For 
this reason, unw^illing to deviate from the line of pro- 
priety on either side, I have, in the ^^ KEY/' avoided 



Prosody. 35 

to mark the quantity of any syllables in the Ana- 
paestic verses, except the final syllable of each foot, 
whicij, at all events, must necessarily be accented. 

Tliere is a variation, or violation, of this metre, 
which here leqi.ires notice, as it not unfrequently 
occurs. It consists in the omission of one syllable 
from the third foot, which thus becomes a spondee or 
an iambus ; e. gr. 

In fil-i-!ets of brass, j rolVdup \ tohisears. (Swift. 

And observe, | while you live, | that no \ man is shy 
To discover the goods he came honestly by. (Swift, 

But such lines, by whomsoever written, cannot be 
considered in any better light than that of .lame, 
aukward, imperfect verses, which, though they may 
sometimes be tolerated for the sake of the matter, can 
certainly not be praised, and ought never to be imi- 
tated. 

The same remark is, in general, applicable to a 
similar licence sometimes occurring in the fourth 
foot, when a spondee is substituted for the anapaest. 
On particular occasions, however, this latter species 
of sponrlaic Anapaestic may (like the Greek and La- 
tin Scazony or limping Iambic) prove a perfectly eli- 
gible metre. In skilful hands, it may sometimes be 
successfully applied to the purposes either of ridi- 
cule or of pathos. Some striking word or words, 
forming a grave spondee at the close, thus become 
the more impressive, where the reader, after having 
lightly skimmed over the preceding anapaests, finds 



36 Prosorlf/, 

his speed an expectedly checked by that heavy foot, 
as when a racer, in his rapid course, is suddenly 
startled and stopped by some unforeseen impediment. 
— In the following line of Mr. Campbell, who con- 
cludes several stanzas with the same two words, the 
final spondee will probably please many reade"" 
And, where-e-|-ver I went, j was my poor | rlog Tray. 

HypermeteryWith double rhime— 
But thanks | to my friends ! for their care [ in my 

breed'l^ing^ 
Who taught I me betimes | to love work-|-ing and 

read^\4ng. (Watts, 



Anapastic of three feet. 
But the sweet-j-est of mo-|-ments will fly. (Anon. 
8he shi-1-ver'd with c5ld, [ as she went. (Southey. 

This metre (as observed in pao^e 32) is very plea- 
singly combined in stanzas with theanapcestic of four 
feet^ as 
Ye powr's, | who make Beau-] ty and Vir-|tue your 

Let no sor-l-row my Phyl-i-lis molest! [care ! 

Let no blast [ of misfor-1-tune intrude ] on the fair, 

Toruf-|-fle the calm | of her breast. (Anon. 
Used by itself in stanzas with alternate rhime, it is 
ineffabl}^ sweet, and is perhaps the happiest metre 
in our language, for soft tender themes, as 

Ye shepherds, so cheerful and gay. 
Whose flocks never carelessly roam ! 

Should Corydon's happen to stray. 

Ah ! lead the poor wanderers home. (She-nstone, 



Prosody. 37 

Hj^permeter.with double rhimc-^ 
So Ibul I and so fierce | are their nn-^'turcs. (Watts. 



Anapdostic of two feet. 
The beiit ! of the aimd, 
From Its plea-i-sures, we find. 
As I oannot say much in praise of this metre, I 
briefly dismiss it, in company with its fellow 
HypermeteVy double-rhimed — ■ 

If sor-I-rows corrorfe; [j uSy 
And cares j oveiioad \\ Us 

A7iap(tstic of one foot. 

as you write j and refuse 

in despite I To amend 

of the Miise, | What you've peun'd....(Anon. 

This trifling metre cannot be used to advantage in 
continuation, but may sometimes be usefully em- 
ployed in giving variety to the stanzas of irregular 
odes, or other compositions. 

Hi/permeler, with double rhime — 
It \s plea'\-sure 
Without mea'\^sure, (Anon, 



Mixture of Feet in the Iambic Metre. 
I shall here exclusively confine my view to the 
heroic line of ten syllables : but the same remarks, 
which I make on it, will equally apply to the other 
forms of Iambic metre — with only this difference, 
that, according as they are longer or shorter, they 
allow more or less scope for poetic licence. 



38 Prosody. 

As already observed in page 14, pure Iambic 
verses properly contain no other foot than the Iam- 
bus, as 
Her beau-|-ty nought | impaired ] by length | of 

years, 
exceed'l'tng fair ^ \ her an-l-gel form [ appears. 



* Exceeding fair » — Some modern writers appear to have con- 
ceived an irreconcilable antipathy to the word " Exceeding,^' 
thus used in conjunction with an adjective, and have, on every 
occasion, substituted *' Exceedingly in its stead. Nevertheless, 
if I rightly understand the import of the former, as used by very 
respectable authors, (and, among others, our translators of the 
Bible, who have furnished us with near sixti/ examples of* Ex- 
ceeding,^^ in conjunction with adjectives) it is not only a legiti- 
mate, but a fine, significant, emphatic expression. When, for ex- 
ample, it is said of a woman, that she is exceeding fair ^ passing 
fair, or surpassing fair (which are all synonymous phrases), if we 
but rightly parse the sentences, we shall readily come at the true 
meaning, which is, that she is fair, not merely in the positive and 
ordinary degree, but superlatively fair, '^ exceeding/^ " passing,^' 
or ^^ surpassing,'^ what is usually deemed ^'fair;'^ the participle 
beinf in the nominative case agreeing with^* she/^ and *'fair^* in 
the accusative [or objective] case, governed by the participle: — 
or both the adiective and the participle may be considered as 
nominatives; i. e, ^^ She is fair, surpassing all others in that re- 
spect/^— Thus, when Goldsmith, in his " iJeserted Village,'' de- 
scribes the curate, as 

,.„.passing rich with forty pounds a year — 
the meaning is obviously this, that the good man, according to 
liis own ideas, surpassed in riches all the rich — fancied hinoself as 
. nch as Croesus.— See the note ou ^* E^er so'' and " Never so;' 
mpa|^64i 



Prosody. 39 

But, however sweet and pleasing this corvstruction 
may appear in a few verses — however superior it may 
be (or be thought) to any other— certain it is, that^ 
if continued with unvarying uniformity, it would 
soon cloy the taste by its unmixed^ uncontrasted 
sw^eetness — would finally prove nauseous and dis- 
gusting, and would grievously disappoint that love 
of variety, which the Ahnighty has, for a wise and 
beneficent purpose, made a characteristic of the 
human race. — In the present, as in many other 
eases, our taste happily accords with the condition 
in which Nature has placed us : we dislike uniform 
sameness; and lucky it is that we do, since uniform, 
sameness is here un-attainable : for no poet, however 
great his talents and his patience^ could possibly 
produce a good poem of any considerable lengthy 
entirely consisting of pure Iambics, To obtain an 
accent on every second syllable, he must be obliged 
entirely to exclude from his pages a very great num* 
ber ot fine expressive words — to lengthen, curtail, 
new-mould, and trdnsiorm many others^— to commit 
frequent violations of syntax, with as frequeot per- 
versions of style and jscnse : and, after haviag tired 
himself with this laborious trifling, he would tire his 
reader w^ith the monotonous drone oi his stiff uuiform 

* After the example of Horner and othtjr ancients, who 
blended various dialects in their verse, aud used poetic licences 
. of every kind, in a manner which never couid be eiidured in our 
language, though custom has reconciled us to it in the Greek. 



40 Prosody. 

yersification^ But our poets were too wise to make 
the attempt: they bowed obedient to Nature: they 
prudently chose the smoother, easier path, which she 
had pointed out ; and, availing themselves of that 
copious variety of words and of accent which our 
language affords, they have pleasingly diversified 
the forms of their metre, by occasionally obliging 
the Iambus to resign its station to a foot of different 
kind, as the Trochee( - ^ ), the Spondee (- -), the 
Pyrrhic ( ^ ^ ) — each a very useful auxiliary in 
Iambic composition. (Buty see the " Hint on Song- 
writings* in page 60.) 

Of these the Pyrrhic has the foremost claim to 
notice, as being the most necessary : for, though a 
poet might perhaps dispense with the Spondee and 
the Trochee, he could not possibly exclude the Pyr- 
rhic from his lines, in a poem of any considerable 
length. This foot, however, is rarely productive of 
any beauty, other than the general beauty of va- 
riety : but it is un-avoidably admissible, from the 
nature of our language, in which A, And, In, Of, 
For, To, Or, and many other light monosyllables, 
must so frequently follow or precede an un-accented 
syllable, that it would be utterly impossible to write 
Iambic verse, if we were to exclude the Pyrrhic. — 
In the second, third, and fourth^ stations, it passes 
un-objeciionable, particularly if the foot imme- 
diately following be a strong empliatic spondee. In 
the first station, it is rather detrimental to the beauty 
and harmony of the line, though somewhat less in- 



jmious vylisa foUo.wed by a spqndee, tlian when suc- 
ceeded b.y ail Iambus; beca^.s^^-ia the former case, 
tlxe tUird syllable of the; v^r^e ha^ aii accent ; wberea^^ 
in the latter, there are three ya-acceated syllables 
togethei*— a poi'tlon, too.greai: to be wholly destitute 
of accent at the begianing of the line ; altlK)ugh, in 
the body of the verse, an equal portion m<ay very 
well dispense with accent. But, even there^ t\vo. 
successive Pyrrhics, or four un-accented syllables in 
continuation, seldom produce any other than an un- 
pleasing effect. — In the fifth station, the Pyrrhic ma- 
terially weakens and unnerves the verse, notwith- 
standing our utmost effort to crutch up the limping 
line by the support of a strained and unnatural pro- 
nunciation, giving an undue eriiphasis to the final 
syllable, as when the verse terminates with such a, 
word as Vanity, Rfuily'^, &c. 

The Spondee claims admission into every station o£ 
tlie metre ; and, in every station, it is welcome, if 
we except the fifth, where, by attracting to the pe- 
nultimate syllable of the line too much of the accent 
and emphasis which peculiarly belong to the final 
syllable, it generally shocks tlie ear \ though, in some 
special cases^ it is^ productive of a striking beauty, as 
where Dryden, having to bend the stubborn bow^. 



* What could be v/orse, than never more to see 

His life, bis soul, his charming Emilt^ ? (Dryden*, 

Furious he drove, and upward cast hi&eye^. 

Wiiere, next the queen, was ptac'd. his Emili/, (Dr^deii*, 



42 Prosody. 

reserves his main eifort for the close of the line, and 
there, with more striking and impressive effect, exerts 
his utmost strength in straining the^^ ^owgA yea?" — 

At the full stretch of both his hands, he drew. 
And almost join'd, the horns of the tough ytw. 

Too many spondees render the verse heavy and 
prosaic. Although three may somdmes be tolerated, 
two are, in general, as great a weight as the line can 
well bear, if we wish it to move with easy step, and 
with poetic grace. Two, in fact, are no incum- 
brance, particularly if they be not placed together, 
but separated by the intervention of one or two 
Iambuses, or a single Pyrrhic. — In every case, indeed, 
unless where some striking and impressive effect is 
intended to be produced by tiie tardy weight of 
continued spondees, it is always advisable to keep 
tkem asunder. 

The Trochee very frequently occupies the first sta- 
tion, where it is almost always blameless, and often 
highly laudable ^. in the third, it may sometimes 



* It is worthy of remark, however, that, when the initial trochee 
divides a word, 't is much less pleasing to the ear, than when the 
foot and the word te^rminate together: e. gr. 

Issu- \'ing forth, the knight bestrode his steed. (Thomson, 

Reason is here no guide, but still a guard. (Pope. 

Loose to [ the winds their airy garments flew. (Pope. 

But what is the cause ? — In Latin, as observed by Quintiliaii 

and other ancient writers, the interruption in the continuity of 

the voice, between the terminatioo of one word and the com- 



Prosody. 4 3 

pass uncensured : but, in the second or fourth^ it ge- 
nerally has a tendency to enfeeble and unharmonise 
the line ; though, in some rare instances, it may be 
made to produce a happy effect — as indeed almost 
every species of poetic deformity may, by skilful ma- 
nagement, be occasionally converted into a charm, 
like the artificial spot on the cheek of Beauty, or the 
rugged ruin amid the cultured landscape. 

Without further remark, I proceed to quote a few- 
verses containing examples of the auxiliary feet "^^ 

mencement of the next— however short, and ahiiost imper- 
ceptible, the pause may be — gives nevertheless^ an additional 
length of time to the final syllable of the former % and v/e per- 
fectly well kuow, that, in Greek and Latin poetry, that little 
pause frequently produces a dactyl or a spondee from syllables 
which, to an inexperienced prosodian, would appear to make 
only a tribrachys in the former case, in the latter an Iambus, as I 
have shown in my " Latin Prosody,^^ — -Is the same doctrine 
applicable to our English language? I leave that point to be de- 
termined by others : bat, in the mean time, whatever may be 
the cause of the difference, certain it is that the initial trochee 
which terminates a word, more completely fills and satisnes the 
ear, than that really shorter trochee, which, embracing only part 
of a word, admits no interruption in the continuity of the voice, 
no pause whatever, that can at all aid in giving weigh c and em- 
phasis to its second syllable : and the same effect is produced in 
every other station of the verse where a trochee occurs, as may 
easily be p;oved by altering such trochee and the following syl- 
lable to one solid trisyllabic word, corres^ponding in accent wish 
the three syllables displaced. 

* I reserve to a future occasion to enter inco a miaute ana- 
lytical examination of this our principal metre, foot by foot* 



44f Prosody.. 

The Pyrrhic^ 
and to \ the dead ( mjr will-|.ing shade | shall go. 

(West. 
To qua-| lity \ belongs | the high-j- est place. (Young. 
And ^11 I the te-)-nor o/'l his soul | is lost. (ParnelL 
His heart \ dilates, | and glo-|-nes m | his strength. 

(Addison, 
And speak, I though sure> { with seena-l-ing dif-l^i- 
dence, (Pope. 

and lo \heia-\'ken zeitk \ a sud-1-deivpain. (Young, 
as 071 \ a day, [ reflect-l-z^^g on | his age... (Lowth. 
Solem l-mt^ '5 } a co-l-rerySr I a sot. (Young. 

The Spondee — 
5 born \ to thoughts, | toplea-|-sures, more | sublimer 

(Langhorne., 
Forbear, ] g7'eat man \ in arms j renown'd, | forbear,. 

(Addison. 
The west-|-ern sun [ now shot \ a fee-|-^ble ray, 

(Addison. 

That touched t tlieruff | that touch'dlQ/iee^x Biess-l-es*' 

chin. (Young. 

and syllable by syllable^ in all its different forms and modifica« 
tions, on the e^itensive plan of the " Analysis'^ of the Hexameter 
Verse, in the last improved edition of my " Latin FrosodyJ^ 

* Queen Besses chin* — This spelling, though different from 
that of the printed copy now before me, is undoubtedly correct, 
and sanctioned by formtr usage, as may be seen by recurring to 
early editions of bo^ks written before the commencement of the 
last century: audit has reason on its side, as well as custom. 
Our raodem genitive ^with the apostrophe Cas John\JE€t&r'sp.. 



For who I can write | so fast | as men | run mad? 

(Young. 
Here dzvilh \ kind tase, \ and un-repro-|-virjg joy. 

(Thomson. 



&c.) is evidently nothing else than a contraction of the antique 
genitive termination ES, in which, for brevity's sake, we omit the 
jBin pronunciation, as we do in the preterites of most of our re- 
gular verbs, Lov*d, Walked, Composed, &c. But there are cases, 
in which we e«w«of suppress the jG, of either the preterite or the 
genitive. To verbs ending in D or T, we cannot, in pronuncia- 
tion, add the D for the preterite without the aid of a vowel * 
whence we are compelled to retain the sound of the E in speaking, 
and also to express it in writing, as Sound-ed^ Lament-ed, &e. 
and, in verbs ending in DE or TE, as Divide, Recite^ the mute 
E becomes sonorous in the preterite, and furnishes an additional 
syllable, Divided, Iteci^d, &c. In nouns, a similar cause pro- 
duces a similar effect, which has the universal sanction o^oral 
usage. As we cannot, without the assistance of a vowel, add S 
to nouns ending in S, X, Z,. CH, SH, we retain, in pronuncia- 
tion, the full original sound of the ES in the genitive, as, a Foxes 
brush, a Lasses beauty, a Witches art, a Thrushes nest ; and in 
nouns ending in CE, SE, GE, the mute E becomes sonorous, and , 
productive of an .additional syllable, as, her Graces concert, ^ 
Horses mane, a Sages wisdom. Now this is all as it should be s 
we speak properly, though we choose to write incorrectly, and 
contrary to the practice of our fore- fathers. But I ask, is it 
reasonable to retain, in writing, the E of the preterites Loved, 
Walked, &c. which is not at all sounded in speech, and to reject 
the E of tlie genitives Foxes, Thrushes, &c. which is universally 
sounded ? For my part, iii my edition of Drydenh Virgil, I 
thought myself bound to adopt the pure old orthography which 
1 found in his own original edition, and, after his example, to 



46 Prosody, 

New scenes \ arise : | new /awJ-|-scapes strike | the 
eye. (Thomson , 

Yon bless^l'ed sun, | and this ] gree?i earth \ so fair. 

(Thomson. 
Or where { old Cam | softpa-l-ces o'er | the lea, 

(Thomson. 
Jfzpe dff\ thefaint | cold d^ws \ weak na-l-tuve sheds. 

(Thomson. 
one dark \ rough road \ of sighs, \ groans^ pains, \ and 
tears. (Cotton. 

JRpcks, caves, \ lakes, dens, \ bogs, fens, \ and shades | 
of death. (Milton. 

The Trochee- 
Tyrant I and slave, | those names | of hate | and fear. 

(Denham. 
...••.Was lent, ( not to | assure i our doubt-l-ful way. 

(Dry den. 

terminate such genitives in ES without an apostrophe. — If it be 
objected, that this orthography would create ambiguity iy leaving 
no distinction between singular and plural, I reply, that the " 
context will, in most cases, prevent tliat ambiguity ; and the 
apostrophe, usually added to the plural genitive, will sufficiently 
guard against it in the few remaining cases where alone any 
doubt could possibly exist. — Or, as a medium between impro- 
priety and inconvenience — and a small sacrifice to modern fa- 
shion — the apostrophe (though neither necessary nor strictly 
proper) might he retained, together with the JE, in the singular 
genitive, thus — Queen Bess^es chin, a fox'es brush,-a Thrnsh'es 
nest, &c. and this practice I have myself adopted in a work of 
considerable magnitude, which has lately passed under my revi- 
sion, as editor. 



Prosody. ^ 

And spar-1-kling wine | smiles m \ the tempt-I-ing 
glass. (Roscommon. 

echoes | at best, | all we \ can say | is vain. 

(Buckingham. 
The auxiliary Feet promiscuously blended — 
To the I thick woods \ the wool-|-]y flocks I retreat. 

(Addison. 
From the \ vain con-l-verse qf\ the world | retired. 

(Young. 
and a \ rich knave 's \ a Vi-l-btl on \ the laws. (Young. 
When you | the dull-l-es^ of\ dull things \ have said. 

(Young. 
and to I alife | more hap-l-py and \ refined. (Thomson. 
of an I alLwise, | all-pdw'rA-iu\ ^xo'\-vidhice, (Gay. 
of their \ exo-|-tic mmA-strtls and \ shrill pipes. 

(Somerville. 
The gen-i-tle vaoyQ-l'mcnt and \ %ldw mea-I-surd pace, 

(Young. 
Great souls \ by m'\'Stinct to \ each o-l-ther turn. 

(Addison. 
all In-'l'strumenis, \ all arts \ of ru-!-inmet.(Denham. 
Death, wrapped \ in chains, ! low at \ the ba-l-sis lies. 

(Young. 
Makes all \ Jove's thun^l-der on \ her ver-|-ses wait. 

(Roseommon. 
High s^a-i-tions tu-|-wi//t but \ not bliss, \ create. 

(Young. 
Nature \ was in \ alarm : | some dan-i-ger nigh. 

(Dryden. 
Whether \ by na-|-ture form'd 1 or by | long use. 

(Somerville. 



48 Prosodj/. 

Sceptres j and thrones \ are de-i^stvi'd to | obey. 

(Addison. 
Spzders \ ensnare; ] snakes poi-\-sor) -^ ti-|-g€rs prowl, 

(Beattie. 
Wind the ( shrill horn, \ or spread j the wa-|-ving net. 

(Pope. 
Europe's I loud cries y j that ProA-vtdtnce \ assail'd. 

(Addison. 
.*..Tempt the \ lastfu-\-rp of | e;^ treme | despair. 

(Dcnham. 
Vtrtue^s 1 the paint | that can \ maAe,a2;;i/i-!-kles shine. 

(YouDg. 

....Brought death \ Into \ the worlds [ and all ] our 

woe. (Milton. 

To launch | from earth ( Into \ eter-I-m(y. (Gay. 

Troops of I bold youths \ born on \ the di-!-stant Saone*, 

(Addison. 
What na-l'ture has \ denied, \ fools mil j pursue, 

(Young. 
The balls j of his | broad eyes \ roltd m \ his head. 

(Dryden. 

'TIs tri-j-umph all | and joy : j now, my \ brarve 

youths,.. (Somerville. 

Concerning the Trochee, the Spondee, and the 

Pyrrhic, there can be no doubt. BiHf, with respect 

to the Dactyl, the Anapaest, and the Tribrachys, the 

• Sahnc — pronounced like the English word Sowiiy with its 
fullest sound; whence, in some editions of Addison, it is erro- 
neously printed Sonne. 



Prosody. 49 

ca&e is different : and, how far they prevail in our 
Iambic verse, is a question which never can be de- 
termined by the opinion or authority of any gram- 
marian ; because, in ten thousand instances where 
we may fancy that we discover those trisyllabic feet, 
there occurs not perhaps a single one, in which we 
can to a certainty tell whether the writer did not 
intend, by a synaeresis, a syncope, or some other 
poetic licence, to make the foot in question aTrochee, 
a Spondee, or a Pyrrhic*. The author alone can 



* This uncertainty is an inconvenience inseparable from the 
nature of our language, and un-avoidably resulting from our wane 
of a nicely-cliscrlminated syllabic quantity to guide us, as in the 
Greek and Latin; in which languages^ it is, for the most paft^.. 
evident at the first glance, whether the poet meant a syncope^ a 
synaeresis, or any other licence, and what foot he intended ; the 
reader finding an un-erring guide ii; the quantity, aided besides 
by that well-known rule, that one long syllable is equal to two 
short — a spondee to a dactyl, anapsesr, or preceleusmatic (u e. 
a double Pyrrhic), If that rule were really applicable to our 
language, we should have fewer doubts respecting the feet ; but 
it does-nothold good in English; since we see that a Pyrrhic, 
of two light, un^accented syllables, equally makes a foot with us, 
as a spondee of two heavy, accented syllables ; and this, not 
only in cases where a contiguous spondee might be supposed to 
compensate, by the additional length of its time, for the stinted 
brevity of the Pyrrhic, but also in verses innumerable which 
contain no spondee, though sometimes two Pyrrhics occur in the 
same line, as may be seen among the examples quoted in page 44 « 
This circumstance proves that the number of syllables (exclusive 
of their accent or quantity) is a much more important considera- 

E 



50 Prosody. 

decide the question in each particular case : but, how 
that decision is to be obtained, I know not. In the 
mean time, it may be proper to observe-, that 
wherever, in our Iambic metre, we find the appear- 
ance of a dactyl, an anapaest, or a tribrachys, such 
.appearance usually presents itself in some word, or 
combination of syllables, that is susceptible of syncope 
or synaeresis, — very rarely, if at all, in any others. 
Kow this circumstance alone is sufficient to authorise 
a doubt whether those feet were ever intended : for, 
if intended, why do they not as frequently occur in 
words or combinations which admit no licence, and 
in which the trisyllabic foot would evidently and 
unquestionably appear ? That they do not, is cer- 
tain : and this consideration naturally suggests the 
following easy and simple mode of ascertaining how 
far the dactyl, the anapaest, or the tribrachys, is an 
ornament or a disparagement to our Iambic metre 
— and, consequently, how far we ought to court or 
avoid the appearance of such feet in poetic compo- 
sition or recitation. 

If, from any verse of ordinary construction, we 



tion in our English poetry than in the Latin, where, without the 
smallest difference in the metre, the heroic verse of six feet may 
vary from thirteen to seventeen syllables, and the common six- 
foot Iambic from twelve to eighteen. At the same tinie it fur- 
nishes an argument against the hasty and unnecessary introduc- 
tion oftrisyllabic feet into our Iambic metre, to alter the number 
of the sjllables, on which our versification appears so much to 
depeudf 



Prosody. 51 

remove any number of syllables, and substitute an 
equal number of others, exactly corresponding with 
them in accent — although the sense may be im- 
paired, i\\e metre dit least will still be perfect: e. gr. 

Pilzdh' wrath, to Greece the direful spring 
of woes unnumbered, heav'nly goddess, sing. 

The Frenchman's arts, to Spain the direful spring 
of feuds and carnage, heav'nly goddess, sing. 

Hark ! the numbers, soft and ♦clear, 
Genfli/ steal upon the ear. 

Hark ! the thunders, loud and clear. 
Rudely burst upon the ear. 

With horns and zmth trumpets^ with fiddles ami 

drums, 
They'll strive to divert him, as soon as he comes. 

Y}\\hdancing and concerts, with fiddles and drums, 
They'll greet and amuse him, as soon as he comes. 

Here, in three different species of veri^e, three dif- 
ferent kinds of feet are altered : and yet, so far as 
mere sound and metre are concerned, the altered lines 
are, equally good as the original. — Let us now apply 
the same test to some of those Iambic verses, ia 
which a hasty reader might fancy that he perceives 
some of the trisyllabic feet : e. gr. 
Which ma-|-wy a bard j had chant-1-ed ma-Vny a day, 
O er maA-ny dfroA-zen, ma-l-ny cifieA-xy Alp* 

In these lines, we four times discover the appear-^ 



:5t Prosody. 

.<jrtt(re of anapaests, as marked *, If they be real ana' 
ifm^tSj and the chastened ear approve ihem as such, 
it will equally admit other, less questionable, ana- 
.psests in their stead. Let us try — 
Which Ho-l-wer the bard | had chant-1-ed once J 

tn his day* 
O'er hor-l-nc? and fivA-zon smb-l-king and fte^\-vj 

Alps. 



* I have seen these verses so scanned in print, as to make 
j wh)lch many | 'edtndnf \ o*er many \ 'Zen many \ a fie \ so many 
examples of the amphibrachys. But the amphibrachys fas well 
observed by Mr. Dawes in his Miscellanea Critica) is not admis- 
sible on the same footing with the spondee, the dactyl, or the 
anapaest; and it is repugnant to the nature of our English versi- 
fication, which requires the accents on the first or last syllables of 
such feet as have any accent: for I cannot consider the three 
concluding syllables of a double-rhiming Iambic as a single foot, 
much less an amphibrachys, because the first and second of those 
syllables may be, and often are, both adiented. — Besides, in the 
following lines — the first from Dryden, the others from Gray— 
....By guns, invented since, 1^22// w?a-|-«y a day — 

FuUmd-\'ni/ a gem \ of purest ray serene 

Milimd-l^yii/ ajlozo'r \ is born to blush unseen..,, 
we cannot make an amphibrachys of Full mani/, the word Full 
requiring too strong an accent. Full ma-' will necessarily be a 
spondee ; ajnid, as -ni/ a must here, in each case, be together 
taken into the following foot, we may hence learn how to dis- 
pose of the same syllables in the verses above quoted. — With re- 
spect to the Fie- in Fiejy, it must be considered as a single 
syllable, and ought, indeed, (agreeably to its obvious etymology) 
to be written without the *E, as Mhy, Sfiry, Wiry, from Mire, 
SpirCf Wire, 



Prosody. 53 

If any reader, of poetic ear, will seriously pro- 
nounce these altered lines to be good and admi'ssible 
verses, I have not one word more to say on the sub- 
ject. But, if every person of taste joins with me — - 
as, no doubt, he will — in declaring them to be mo'^t 
detestable verses, or rather indeed no verses at all — 
then it seems to follow that the anapaest mars our 
Iambic metre: for it is not merely the badness of 
my anapeests that has done the mischief; as the 
reader will, upon trial, experience the same result 
from the introduction of any others, that have all 
their syllables distinctly pronounced. In reading:, 
therefore, unless certain that a real anapsest occurs^ 
let us beware of conjuring up anapaestic phantoms, 
to scare away the metre and harmony of the lines — • 
especially when it is so eas}' to avoid them, as here, for 
example, where we have only to employ a synaeresis 
in ny a, and make each of those four feet an Iambus, 
by rapidly pronouncing tiie two vowels as a single 
syllable, as the lA in Britannia, Hihernia, Spaniard^ 
Italian J VaJiaiit, Sec. 

By a similar synaeresis, -ry aspires may be sounded 
nearly as two syllables, to make an Iambus, in ths 
following line of Milton — 

....Of ignominy; yet to glo-|-77/ aspires — 
and, in many other cases, an un-accented final vowel 
may, without elision, be made to coalesce ^^ith the 
initial vowel immediately following, in such words, 
too, as Echoing, Follozcing, Bellomng, the two latter 
syllables may be rapidly sounded together as one 



54 Prosoiy, 

\>y synsBresis : and, in the following lines of MiIton~ 
Of AiV-l-rarchies, of orders, and degrees — 
The great i Afemr-|-chal standard was to move-- 
the syllables, hi'€y become one by synseresis, as Liar 
is'made by Pope to rhime with ^Squire, and Higher 
l>y Somerville*. 

Let lis now examine the dactyl and tribrachys, 
which may, in appearance, be both found in the 
following lines of Milton — 

.^.Murmuring ; \ and, with him, fled the shades of 
night — 

^^Innn-l-merable \ before th^Almighty's throne. 
But let us try a real dactyl, and a rea/ tribrachys — » 

...if5rror2^/;|and,vvithhim, fled the shades of night--* 

...Distiu'i^guishable \ before th^Aln^ighty's throne* 

flere again the real feet most sadly limp and faulter, 
;4nd th^ lines bear Httle resemblance to verse ; while, 
in the original, the apparent dactyl and tribrachys 
move along with steady graceful step, and ihe lines 
are perfectly metrical. But the fact is^ that we really 
do not, in the utterance of those lines, pronounce 
Murmuring as three complete syllables, or Innume^ 
Table as five: in each case, w:e instinctively and 

^ Boastful and rough, your first son is a \squirr ; 
The next, a tradesman, meekj and much a liar. 

A ^squire of Wales, whose blood ran higher 

Than that of any other 'squire..,. 
If, however, any person prefer the use of syncope, to make 
IHrarchles, KiWarchal; XiV; Higher ^ I am not disposed to cob- 
test tlje point, ,. 



Prosodif. 55 

imperceptibly make a syncope, which converts Mur^ 
muring into a trochee, and Innumerable into an Iam- 
bus and a Pyrrhic, thus - 
.,,Murm'ring; • and, with him, fled the shades of 

night^ — 
,.MnU'\'m'rdbli \ before th' Ahnighty's throne. 

I do not, however, deny, that, on some very rare 
occasions, a real dactyl, tribrachys, or anapaest, may 
be productive of beauty, in the way of picturesque 
or imitative harmony. But, w^here there is not some 
particular and striking effeci <>f that kind to be pro- 
duced by the trisyllabic foot, its admission, instead 
of being contributive to harmony or beauty, gene- 
rally proves inimical to both. In t.ie latter of those 
two verses, for instance, it would have been much 
better to load the line wiih slow heavy spondees, for 
the purpose of retarding the r-ader's progress, and 
affording him time for a leisurely survey of the 
countless throng, than to hurry him away on the 
wings of a rapid tribrachys, before he has enjoyed 
one moment's pause, to cast his eyes around. 

In the following line of Milton — 
.»Alljudgement,whe-KAer?7/Ae6fr'w | or earth or hell— . 
it is not at all necessary to make a trisyllabic foot : 
we can reduce it to a proper iambus by pronouncing 
whether in, for which we have the authority of 
Swift— 

And thus fanatic saints, though neither in 
Doctrine or discipline our brethren — 
furnishing a hint to adopt a similar expedient in 



56 Prosodi/. 

many other cases, which, at first sight, are calcu- 
lated to embarrass the inexperienced reader ^ ; as, 
for example, in this line of Dryden — 
The carc-l-iul De-\-vilis still \ at hand with means— 
we can easily pronounce Dev*l is short, as we do 
Dev'lishy and make the third foot an Iambus 

On the whole, I recommend to my young readers, 
never, without irresistible necessity, to make a trisyl- 
labic foot in Iambic or Trochaic verse. And here I 
drop the subject for the present—intending, how- 
ever, to treat it more largely and minutely on a future 
occasion — and observing in the mean time, that, al- 
though I have, in compliance with the ideas of 
others, occasionally marked in the ^^ KEY" a tri- 
svllabic foot in Iambic metre, I by no means wish 
them to consider it as really such^ bat, by shortening 
it in the pronunciation, to reduce it to an Iambus, a 
Trochee, or a Pyrrhic, as the ease may require. 

The Caesura, 

As already observed in page 3, the Ccesura 
(which literally means a cutting or division) is a 

* Although some instances of synseresis and syncope, such as 
I recommend, may, to the English reader, appear harsh and 
portentous, I feel confident that the classical scholar, accustomed 
to the much bolder licences of Homer, will account tliese En- 
glish licences perfectly moderate and warrantable : and, as Mil- 
ton was well versed in Greek and Roman literature, we need 
not be surprised that he should, in these as in many other re- 
spects, have copied the practice of the ancients. 



Prosody. 57 

pause, which usually takes place somewhere near 
the middle of the verse, aiFording a couvenient rest 
for the voice, and enabling the reader or speaker to 
renew the effort necessary for the delivery of the 
entire line ; ten successive syllables, uttered toge- 
ther in unbroken tenor, being in general too many 
to be pronounced with proper emphasis, and due 
poetic effect. 

The most advantageous position for the caesura is 
generally held to be after the fourth, fifth/ or sixth 
syllable, though it occasionally takes place, without 
disadvantage, after the third or seventh. Its position 
is, for the most part, easily ascertained by the gram* 
matic construction and the punctuation, which na- 
turally indicate the place where the sense either re- 
quires or admits a pause : e/gr. 
The saviour comes, ^|| by ancient bards foretold, 

(Pope. 
From storms a shelter, ^ jj and from heat a shade. 

(Pope. 
Exalt thy tow'ry head, ^ || and lift thy eyes. (Pope© 
Exploring, ^ || till they find their native deep.(Boyse. 
Within that mystic circle, 7 [j safety seek. (Royse. 

When the grammatic construction does not re- 
quire any pause, and there is no punctuation to mark 
the place for the caesura, more accurate discrimina- 
tion is requisite to ascertain it: but, even in these 
cases, it is, in general, a matter of no difficulty, for 
a reader of any judgement, to discover, at first sight, 
the proper station for the pause : e. gr. 



o8 . Prosody. 

V^xixxe alone ^ jj is happiaess below. (Pope. 

With all the incense^ [| of the breathing spring. 

(Pope. 
Nor ardent waniors meet^ || ^ with hateful eyes. 

(Pope, 
Deluded ^ || with the visionary light. (Boy^e. 
Yet be not blindly guided ^ || by the throng. 

(Roscommon. 
Sometimes we s^e the caesura take place after the 
second syllable, or the eighth, as 
Happy ^ [| without the privilege of will. (Boyse. 
In different individuals^ || we find. ..(Boyse. 
for no reader of taste would separate the adjective 
from its substantive in the latter of these verses, or 
the preposition from its regimen m the former. 

Sometimes, moreover, the line requires or admite 
two pauses, as 
His cooks, ^ Ij through long disuse, ^ l| their trade 

forgot. (Dryden. 

Caesar, * [| the world's great master, ^ | and his own. 

(Pope. 
Or pierc'd, ^ j| with half so painful grief, ^ || your 
breast. (Dryden. 

* If, by a (not very elegant) alteration of the final syllable, this 
line were converted into 

Nor ardent warriors meet with hatefuiyc?e5 — 
the caesura should be made after Warriors : but to place it so in 
Pope's line above, would entirely mar and pervert the sense, as 
the reader will clearly perceive, on prououncing the words 
meet with together in close conjunction. 



Prosody, 5g 

And goodness, ^ |1 like the sun, ^ || enlightens all. 

(Bo yse 
And raise thee, ^ || from a rebel, 7 jj to a son. (Bovse. 
Most perfect, ^ j| most intelligent/ || most wise. (Boyse. 
From the examples above quoted, and innu^nerable 
others occurring in the works of our most admired 
poets, it will evidently appear that the British Muse 
is much less fastidious with respect to the caesura, 
than the Muse of ancient Rome— ( , at least, the 
Roman grammarians, who condemned, as ^' un-iaencP 
every line, however well constructed in other respects, 
which had not the ciesura in such or such particular 
position ^. In English— thanks to Phoebus and the 
Nine! — no such rigid, pedantic, tasteless law has yet 
been enacted : poets may make the caesura where they 
please, and, by widely diversifying its position, may 
give to their numbers a grateful variety, which they 
would not otherwise possess. Drydeu well under- 
stood the value of that advantage, and judiciously 
availed himself of it, to a greater extent, perhaps, 
than any bard before or since his time. 



* Those learned gentlemen (as noticed in my " Latin Pros- 
odi/^) had the modesty to condemn, as not prgper verses, cr- 
tain lines ill VirgiFs most polished pi'oductions — merely because 
the caesura happened not to take place in exact conformity to 
their wQVXQXi^ \ 



Go .Prosodi/. 

A Hint on Song-writings 

in addition to the remarks in page 39, on the use of 
the irrregular or auxiliary Feet in Iambic Metre. 

Although, in other species of iambic composition, 
the employment of such feet be productive of a 
pleasing variety, they very frequently produce a very 
disagreeable effect in songs intended for music, by 
setting the notes at variance with the words. In 
general, the musical composer adapts his notes only 
to the first stanza: and, when this is. the case, how 
frequently does it happen, that^ although the tune be 
composed with the most consummate skill an4 taste 
for that stanza, it does not suit any one of those 
which follow ! The fault here lies, not with the mu- 
sician, but with the poet, who has not observed the 
necessary uniformity in the structure of his stanzas. 
To a songster, therefore, who intends his verses for 
music, I would say : Either take no liberties whatever 
in the introduction of any other than the regular 
feet ; or, if, in the first stanza, you have any-where 
introduced a trochee, a pyrrhic, or a spondee, by all 
means contrive, if possible, to have a similar foot in 
exactly the correspondent part of the correspondent 
line in every succeeding stanza, — From inattention 
to such minutiae, trifling in appearance, but serious 
in their effects, the consequence ensues, that we often 
hear those jnusical flourishes, which, in the first in- 
stance, were happily applied to grave, sonorous, em- 
phatic syllables, afterwards idly wasted on A, The, 



Song-Writing. 61 

Of, To, In, -ed, 4ng, Sec. while syllabks of the for- 
mer description are stinted of their due emphasis, 
because they unluckily happen to correspond with 
light, un-emphatic syllables in the first stanza. 

Of the un pleasing effect produced by that incon- 
gruity, 1 have, in my own practice, found a striking 
instance, on occasion of my undertaking, some jears 
since, to gratify a lady with a few songs to favorite 
old tunes. In my first attempts, though my* lines 
were written in the same metre as the original, and 
(whether good or bad in other respects) were metri- 
cally correct, they did not at all accord With the 
music— On examination, I discovered the cause to 
be an accidental difference between the original 
verses and my own, in the admission of irregular 
feet ; and, in short, I could not satisfy either the lady 
or myself, until I had so modified my lines, as to 
make them perfectly agree with the original, foot by 
foot, and syllable by syllable. 

To place this point in a clearer light, let us sup- 
pose the first stanza of Pope's Universal Prayer set 
to music, and the subsequent stanzas sung to the 
sanle tune : then, in these three corresponding lines 
of different stanzas — 



Fd^Uher 

Thou gre^^ 

T6\thee, 





first 
whose 



evry age..,., 
understood.... 
is all space.... 



all, J m 

c£LUse,Heast 

tem-j-ple 

the notes admitting no distinction between long and 
short syllables, between accented and un-accented— 
we shall hear the corresponding syllables, Fa- and 

F 



62 Song^Writing. 

ti)y made perfectly equal in musical importance, and 
the same equalit}'^ estab1isli<^d between "thtr^ great ^ 
and thee — o/, and/«rs^ — m and llast, &c. 

Such discordance between the words and the music 
is a very serious defect — an evil, which cannot pos- 
sibly be obviated by any thing short of perfect uni- 
formity in the corresponding feet and verses of the 
different stanzas, unless the musical composer shall 
set the entire piece to music, from beginning to end. 
— ^The necessity of that uniformity seems to have 
been forcibly felt by Horace, the most accomplished 
songster that ever tuned the Roman lyre : for, in all 
his Sapphic effusions, which are pretty numerous, 
there occurs not one variation of a single syllable, 
though the Sapphic metre v^rould admit some varia* 
tions ; and he has, with very few exceptions, observed 
the same uniform regularity in every other species of 
metre throughout the entir-e four books of his odes. 



^63 ) 

EXERCISES. 



SCANNING. 



Pure Iambic verses of eight syllables^ or four feet, 
having the accent uniformly placed on the secorid; 
fourth, sixth, and eighth syllables, as 
Begin, iny lord, in e^rly youth, 
To suffer, nay, encourage, truth. 
The learner is to he taught to divide each line into 
fetty and to notice each syllable^ on zohich the accent 
falls. If the pupil write out the verses (which wouM 
answer a better purpose than the simple act of reading 
them), tht divisions into feet, and likewise the accented 
and un-accented syllables, may be thus marked— 
Begin, t iny lord, | in ear-l-ly youth. 
To suf-|-fer, nay, | encou-l-rage truth. 
(This part of the Exercises, and all as far ds p, 75, 
is too simple and easy to require notice in the '^ Key^) 



Assist n>e, o ye tuneful Nine, 
With ease lo form the flowing line. 

And oft his voice, in accents sweet. 
Shall friendship's soothing sounds repeat. 

Alas! thou know'st not, winter drear 
In snowy vest will soon appear. 



64 Scanning. 

Though ne'er sorich^^ we scorn tie elf 
Whose only praise is sordid pelf. 



* Never so rich. — Some modern grammarians condemn 
phrases of this kind^ as improper, and, in their stead, recom- 
mend Ever 50...... I would very cheerfully subscribe to their 

opinion, if I onl]^ could understand the latter phrase, so as to 
extract from it a satisfactory meaning: but ^^a^, I own, is a task 
which exceeds i»y abilities. For example: " It is a fine day: 
will you take a walk f" — " Nv : if it were EVER SO fine a day, 
I would not go out J^-^To discover the meaning of this reply, I 
first consider that Ever signifies Always; and then I understand 
jt thus — " If it were ALWAYS [from the present moment 
to the end of time] asf^ne a day as it now is, I would not go 
cut this day, ^^'^Snvely this cannot be what is intended by thos« 
who use or recommend the phrase ; they cannot mean that my 
walking or not walking this day shall depend on the state of the 
weather ten thousand years hence, and that, in the interim, we 
^re to have no nights, but, all along, one un-interrupted fine 
day ! Yet such is the only meaning that I can discover in the 
S«Stence. — But what means Never so ? On examination, it will 
prove to be a beautiful phrase, and pregnant with energetic 
sense. It is, in fact, an elliptic expression, as the French Non- 
fareil, and the well-known English None such, — When, for ex- 
ample, we say, of a lady, that *^ She is a none suck/- we cer- 
tainly do not mean that she is A NONE^ or A NOBODY^ such 
as some other lady, whose name is charitably suppressed; but 
that she is a woman so good, so fair, (or whatever else may be 
her praise) that none swcA [none equal to her in that respect] 
can be found, Let us, in like manner, supply the ellipsis in the 
phrase, Never so fine, *' If this day were fine to such degree, 
that NEVER SO FINE a day has smiled from the heavens, 
I would not go OMf .''— This simple and obvious interpretation 
give§xis good and satisfactory aen§e, perfectly according with the 



Scannings ()5 



Each heart, in suff'ring virtue's caiisC;, 
Shall swell amid the loud applause. 

For thee shall bud the purple vine. 
For thee her sparkling juice refine. 



invariable import of the phrase Never so..,. , as used by the bc3t 
writers of past days, and,* among others, by our translators 
of the Bible, who have more than ouce employed it. Hence it 
appears that we may, with equal jjropriety, and equally strong 
signifijancy, use the expression, ^' Were she NEVER so Jair,* 
as " She is a NONE-SUCH ;'* which latter, I believe, no gram- 
marian has yet ventured to change into 0/ie-swc^ ; though the 
innovation mi^ht be attempted on equally good [or bacf\ grounds 
in this case as m the former, since Never so, and None-such are 
twin phrases, which must stand or fall together. In fact, Never 
so fair is, as nearly as possible, equivalent to None so fair, and 
None-such to Never such ; the negative producing, in bcth 
cases alike, the eiFect of asserting that the world Ijas not [or ne- 
-jper] yet possessed her equal. — A nearly similar idea of unpa- 
ralleled, and, as it were, exclusively^ superlative excess, v^^as evi- 
dently intended to be conveyed by the antiquated form/^ who 
lut.*,*? as in the following passage of Dryden — 

Who now but Arcite mourns his bitter fate ? 
3. e. *' Who can now be at all said to mourn, in comparison with 
Arcite? — What grief could ever equal his? — Never so poignant 
grief was felt by human being.^^ — In like manner we are to un- 
derstand these two other passages of the same poet — 
Who now but Palamon exults with joy ? 
Who now laments but Palamon, compell'd 
No more to try the fortune of the field ^ 
Sec the note on " Rvceeding*' and ** Exceedingli/f^' page 38* 

V a 



66 Scanning. 

To him the joyous hours I owe, 
That Bathes enchanting scenes bestow. 

With joy I hear the solemn sound. 
Which midnight echoes waft around. 

Tlie pilot warns^ with sail and oar 
To shun the much-suspected shore. . 

From nature too I take my rule. 
To shun contempt and ridicule. 

How soft the chain, the bond how sweet, 
Where merit, virtue, wisdom, meet ! 

The man alone is truly great. 

Who knows to conquer adverse fate. 

The louring clouds portend a sbow'r i 
With hasty steps I quit the bow'r. 

The angry storm in thuader roars. 
And sounding billows lash the shores. 

Through woods and wilds, we vagrant roanS;^ 
And never reach our destin'd home. 

With mingled roar, resounds the wood : 
Their teeth, their claws^ distil, with blood. 



Scannings 67 

Adieu, ye flow'rs, so sweet and fair, 
Tliat droop for want of Myra's care. 

To humbler strains, ye Nine, descend, 
And greet my poor sequester'd friend. 

With awe we view thy placid form. 
Serene amid the raging storm. 

A day as welcome, sure, to you. 
As any day you ever knew. 

While Ev'ning sheds her balmy dews, 
I court the chaste inspiring Muse. 

A cheerless waste before me lay, 
Where, wand'ring, soon I lost my way. 

When life 's the stake for which we play, 
Our lesser ^ interests all give way. 

* Laser and Worser are condemned by many grammarians^ 
as barbarisms ; and it must be owned, that, at first sight, they 
might naturally enough be considered as such. But, on more 
minute examination, I humbly conceive, with ail due deference 
to the learning and judgement of those grammarians, that the 
words nuiy be defended. Our language is universally allowed 
to be of German origin ; and, on tracing the family likeness be- 
tween the features of the present English and those of the Ger- 
man which gave it birth, it appears to me th^ ihe expressions in 
question are perfectly legitimate, and entitled to respect^ or at 



68 Scammig^ 

The fox, with prowling fearful mien, 
At ev'ning pac'd the dewy green. 

My musing solemn way I took, 
Where craggy rocks a stream overlook. 

Mistaker)* fair! thy plaints give o'er. 
Nor ever wish for tempting ore ; 
jFor gold too often [> roves the bait, 
B}^ which we purchase scorn and hate. 

least to indulgence, as venerable relique.s of antiquity. The 
termination ER is not here 2i comparative termination, any more 
than in SeU-er, Pruy-er, &c. It lias no reference whatever to 
comparison ; and, to this day, the Germans add it^ for the mas- 
culine gender, tb the adjective in the abstract, as Gut, good — Eiu 
guter vianUf a good man (not a better man); in which cases, it 
produces an effect not very dissimilar to that which it produces 
on verbs; that is to say, as ER, added to a verb {Sell, Seller), 
designates a man who doe^ what the verb imports, so ER, added 
to an adjective, designates a man who is what the adjective sig- 
nifies. This application, however, is not confined to man alone, 
but extends to every masculine noun.— And be it observed, that 
Laser and Worser are not the only examples of that Germani^jm 
which have survived the various changes of language in this 
island, since we see the old adjective Yond still retaining the syl- 
labic addition Ell in Yonder, where no comparison is intended. 
Some philologists may be disposed to view in the same light the 
adjective NHher, from the antique Netli or Neath [Low], which 
we still retain in Beneath iBe-toto] r but, as Nether will, in most 
cases, admit (though not absoluiely require) a comparative inter- 
pretation, I leave it to the decision of others. 

* Mistaken, — Some grammarians have condemned this ex- 
pression; though approved by all our best and most accurate 



Scannum. 69 



"i3 



And what avails the voice of faole, 
The laurel'd bust, the deathless name. 
The only meed the poet gains, 
F©r all his sorrows, all his pains ? 



writers, and, in its stead, have recommended Mistaking. But 
this Mistaking quite alters the sense, and would, in many case5, 
produce the assertion of a falsehood : e^ gr. " He thought the 
law could not reach his crimes : vet he was hanged for thera.^^ * 
Here a mistaken man was hanged, but not a mistaking man : 
for he was under no mistake at the time oFexeciUion; his pre- 
vious trial and condemnation having completely removed h\s pa$t 
mistake respecting the law. — Further, if Mistaken (acilvely and 
adjectively used) is to be banished from oar language, what is 
to become o^ Sworn, Drunken, Fallen, Grown, Rotten, SwoUeny 
and some other participles, used ia tne same manner, and with 
acknowledged propriety ? Must we convert a sworn appraiser 
into a swearing appraiser, i. e. an ap{»raiser addicted to sxcear^ 
ingf—»2i fallen tower into a ya//<??^ tower, i. e. now falling, 
though it has fallen several centuries a^^o ? — a drunken man into 
a drinking man, i. e, a man now drinking, though perfectly 
sober, and drinking pure water? a grown man into a grozcin^ 
man, i. e. a youth or boy of any age or size, growing up to 
manhood, but not yet arrived at his full growth ? — a rotten tree 
into a rotting tree, perhaps only just beginning to rot, instead of 
being completely rotten throughout? My readers, I presume,- 
will hardly vote for- these preposterous innovations, but wish to 
retain the good old forms, Sworn, Fallen, Drunken, 4'c. Toge- 
ther with them, let us also retain Mistaken, and, both in writing 
and in speaking, congratulate ourselves on having a few such very 
convenient participles of the past tense active, as Come, Gone^ 
Risen, Sprung, &c. Every classical scholar justly admires the 
beauty, the harmony, the conciseness, the perspicuity, result- 
ing from the active participles of the past tenses in the Greek 



70 Scanning. 

A rosy smile overspreads her face : 
Her mien assumes a softer grace : 
She waves her snowy hand ; and, see ! 
My gentle Ivre, she points to thee. 
She takes, she tunes my trembling lyre ; 
And, swelling, lo ! the notes aspire. 
She strikes the chords ; and, all around. 
The list ning Echoes drink the sound. 

Pure Iambic verses of ten syllables^ or five feet, 
having the accent nniforruly placed on the second, 
fourth, sixth, eighth, and tenth syllables, as 

a sud-1-den blush ) inflames | the wa-l-ving sky, 
and now | the crim-l-son cur-l-tains 5-|-pen fly 

Again, my Muse, expand thy feeble wing, 

And wake, with bolder touch, the trembling string. 

If e'er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane. 
Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain. 

The cross so strong a red, it sheds a stain, 
Where'er it floats, on earth and sea and. main. 

language, and regrets that the Latin has so fevv of them. Let 
not M5, who have still fewer, cQusent to diniini&h OHr number, 
and thus reduce ourselves to the necessity of an aukward pep^i- 
phrase, to exprej^s an idea which we can now conveniently com- 
prise in a single word.— In the preceding remarks, I have used 
the term active^ merely in opposition to passive, without re- 
garding the distinction (unnecessary in this place) between trans- 
Hive and intransitive verbs. 



Scanning. 7 1 

He rose, and saw the field deformed with blood, 
Aa empty space, where late the coursers stood. 

With these, of old, to toils of battle bred, 
In early youth my hardy days I led. 

There want not chiefs in such a cause to figljt ; 
And Jove himself shall guard a monarch's right. 

The fleet in view, he twang'd his deadly bow ; 
And hissing flew the feather^'d fates below. 

Th' assembly seated — rising o'er the rest, 
Achilles thus the king of men address'd. 

To honor Thetis' son he bends his care. 
And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war. 

The army thus in sacred rites engag'd, 
Atrides still with deep resentment rag'd. 

A prophet then, inspirM by heav'n, arose, 

And points the crime, and thence derives the woes. 

So short a space the light of heav'n to view ! 
So short a space, and fiU'd with sorrow too! 

At this, the sire embrac'd the maid again, 
So sadly lost, so lately sought in vain. 



72 Scarming* 

While thus^ with arms devoutly lais'd in air, 
And solemn voice, the priest directs his pray'r.... 

She said ; and, sighing, thus the god replies. 
Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies. 

Thy boundless w^ill, for me, remains in force; 
And all thy counsels take the destin'd course. 

The thundVer spoke ; nor durst the queen reply ; 
A rev'rent horror silenc'd all the sky. 

Apollo tun'd the lyre ; the Muses, round. 
With voice alternate aid the silver sound. 

She'll lead thee on to seek a deathless name, 

A«d snatch the wreath which binds the brow of Fame* 

The Muse astonish'd drops her feeble lyre j 
And baffled art gives way to nature's fire. 

Aghast she started back, and shook with pain. 
As rising breezes curl the trembling main. 

The tale of woe no longer strikes the ear; 
And ev'ry eye is dried from ev'ry tear. 

The pow'r, that bids all cares and troubles cease. 
Will kindly crown our future days with peace. 



Scanning* 7S 

His sire's exploits he now with wonder bears ; 
The monstrous tales indulge his greedy ears. 

She thus in hasty words her grief confessed, 
While Lucy strove to soothe her troubled breast. 

Their splendid domes and busy streets declare 
Their firmest fort, a king's parental care. 

A man he was to all the country dear. 

And passing rich ^ with forty pounds a year. 

Iambic verses of eight syllables — in other respects^ 
pure Iambics — but containing examples of synerem^ 
marked in Italic character. 

Reclaimed, the wild licen/^0Ms youth 
Confess'd the potent voice of truth. 

Beneath an aged oak reclin'd, 

The varfows scenes engroBsM my mind. 

I saw thy youthful mind expand, 
And still the spark of genius fann'd. 

He bids the pi^^ows tale of woe 
In tender cadence sadly flow. 

* Passing rich, — On the syntax of this passage froiH Gold- 
smilh, und of similar plirase«, see the note in page 38. 

G 



74 Scanning. 

Amid the endless ills of life, 
The stings of care, the storms of strife. 
In all the Vinxious hours of grief, 
My soul anticipates relief. 

Content to court the cooling glade. 
Inhale the breezie, enjoy the shade.... 
No anxfow5 vigils here I keep; 
No dreams of gold distifact my sleep. 

Supenor worth your rank requires: 
For that, mankind reveres your sires. 

Prepare the way ; your banners spread ; 
Around ambrosia? odors shed. 

Thy breath inspires the poet's song, 
The patriofs free, unbiassed tongue. 

The dewy leaves luxurious shed 
Their balmy essence o'er his head. 

Where'er I go, I play my part. 
And bring a social^ jovial heart. 

I know, as false thy prospects glare. 
As flits the meteor through the air. 

Th' electric flame of glory runs 
Impe^wows through her hardy sons. 



Scanning* 75 

Iambic ter$es of ten syllables -^ in other respects, 
pure Iambics — but containing examples of sync^resis, 
markedin Italic character » 

Above the bounding billows swift they flew, 
Till now the Grecian camp appeared in view. 

Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall ; 
And nodding llion waits tV impending fall. 

The youths with wine the copious goblets crown'd. 
And, pleas'd, dispens'd the flowing bowls around. 

To heap the shores with copious death, and bring 
The Greeks to know the curse of such a king. 

Terrestrial Jove, whose pealing thunders roll 
From realm to realm, from pole to utmost pole/ 

A Madhous^. 
Amid those gall'ries drear, those doleful cells. 
The unrelenting despot, MemVy, dwells.... 
Insatiate Fury clanks his ponderous chains : 

SuspiczoM5 Av'rice counts ideal gains 

While maddest Murder waits the sword to draw, 
And Osient'dtio7i flauntsin robes of straw. 

No more the neck invidious kerchiefs shade ; 
The waist ho more the tyrant stays invade* 



76 Scanning, 

But, goddess, thou thy c^ppUant son attend z 
To high Oljmpus' sbming court ascend, 

A zone, beyond the thoijght of angels bright^ 
Around him, hke the zodiacr, sheds its light. 

This echoing voice will rend the yielding air : 

" For judgement, judgement, sons of men, prepare T' 

Heroic chamjpiom caught the clanon'5 call. 

And thronged the feast in Edward's bannered hall. 

Iambic t^erses of eight syllables, with a mixture of 
other feet besides the Iambus^ as pointed out in the 

1 
I court the Muse, and mark the day 
Steal, calm andundisturVd, away, 

2 
When shall I have the pow'r to blesSp 
And raise up merit in distress? 

3 
See Peace, with all her rural train, 
Health, Plenty, Joy, return again. 

4 
Peace and content would bless each day^ . 
The hours serenely glide away..,/ 

o 
Not all the world can now impart 
A charm to glad my dTOoping heart. 



Scanning. 77 

6 
Wrest from vindictive Rage his prey : 
Destroy Oppression's iron sway. 

7 
He now feels wants unknown before, 
Wants still increasing with his store. 

8 
Cowards are cruel : but the brave 
Love mercy, and delight to save. 

9 
The spring, that gave her blossoms birth, 
Tore them for ever from the earth. 

10 
The noble palms of conquest crown 
The godlike victor with renown. 

11 
Hast thou old Greece and Rome surveyed, 
And the vast sense of Plato weigh'd ? 

12 
Lord ! in thy sure protection bless'd, 
Submissive will I ever rest. 

13 
I mark his true, his faithful way;, 
And, in my service, copy Travt 

14 
Shall Britain, on her native strand. 
Shrink from a foe's inferior hand ? 

13 
Thus ev'ry object of creation 
Can furnish hints to Contejnplation ; 



78 Scanning. 

And, from tlie most mintite and mean^ 
A virfuous mind can morals glean* 

16 
Heedless of interest, many an hour* 
He loses in the myrtle bow'r. 

17 
Yon tow^ing oak, extending wide^ 
Pi^vokes destruction by its pride. 

18 
Teach me to bless my lowly lot, 
Confin'd to this paternal cot. 

19 
The gentle Zephyrs, as they fly. 
On balmy wings, shall heav a sigh. 

£0 
Each youth of martial hope shall feel 
True valour's animating zeal. 

£1 

Who dwells in yonder little cot. 

And, envies not the monarch's lot? 

She softly breathes, ^"^ Ah ! sigh no more i 
'' Thy Nelson gains th' Elysian shore.'^ 

£3 
See, rushing from the farm and fold,= 
Her sons in glory's lists enrolFd. 

£4 
O Goddess! yet assert thy claim, 
And vindicate thy injur'd name. - 

£5 
More fatal than the Siren's song 



See the remarks on " Mayi^/ a^' in page 5^» 



Scanning. 79 

The crafty flatterer's wily tongue. 

Some love the clash of hostile arms, 
The trumpet's clang, the camp's alarms. 

£7 
Here faithful mem'ry may review 
The scenes that time can ne'er renew, 

£8 
Once time is past, we call in vain. 
No tears can bring it back again. 

29 
Wanton in Sol's meridian ray. 
Sip nectar from each bloomy spray. 

30 
Thy glitt'ring pinions charm mine eyes*, 
Stain'd with bright beauty's brilliant dies, 

31 
The thought would mar thy present joy. 
Mix with thy bliss a base alloy 

32 
Though blest with friends, with youth, and health;, 
And all the gay parade of wealth..... 

33 
The records of departed v;orth 
To noblest sentiments give birth. 

34 
Down in the green sequester'd shade,. 
The streamlet pours its clear cascade, 

35 
Possessed of all the charms that grace 



80 Scanning. 

The brightest of the female race. 

36 
I find in thee a tender friend. 
In thee a patron to defend. 

S7 
In ev'ry dime, from pole to pole. 
Where wind can blow or billow roll, 
Britannia's hrnks the eoast explore. 
Waft science^ peace, and plenty o'er. 

38 
Inoproving and improv'd, they'd leara 
New charms in wisdom to discernt 

39 
You cherish feelings too refin^ 
For him who mingles with mankind. 

40 
He rises from his sleepless bed. 
His soul convuls'd with 'secret dread* 

41 
His income regularly spent, 
He scarcely savv s to pay his rent. 

42 
A temper affable and kind, 
A noble and a gen'rous mind. 

43 
Although I long have racked my brains, 
I've nought but labor for my pains, 

44 
Iq terrors clad, thy foes surround. 
And hurl thy turrets to the ground. 



Scanning, §1 

45 

Nor blasting envy's tainted gale 
Pollutes the pleasures of the vale. 

- 46 
She 's prompt to shed the pitying tear, 
To Mercy and to Virtue dear. 

47 
A coach and four, to take the air, 
Besides a chariot, and a chair. 

48 
His head was silver'd o^er with age ; 
And long experience made him sage* 
In summer's heat and winter's cold,^ 
He fed his flock, and perui'd the fold# 
His hours in cheerful labor flew. 
Nor envy nor ambition knew. 
His wisdom and his honest fame 
Through all the country rais'd his namto 

49 
The shepherd modestly replied 2 
I ne'er the paths of learning tried ; 
Nor have I roam'd to foreign parts. 
To read mankind, their laws, and arts..,,. 
Who by that search shall wiser grow. 
When we ourselves can never know? 

50 
The prostrate game a liou spies, 
And on the greedy tyrant flies* 

51 
^% shines his light before mankind. 



8^2 Scanning. 

His actions prove his honest mind. 

52 ' 
He never needs the screeD of lies^ 
His inward bosom to disguise. 

53 
Wild fancy forms imnumbei'd woes : 
To end bis Vh the maniac goes..,,. 
Forward I nshVI, and seis'd his arm, 
And forc'd him back, secure from^ harm, 

54 — England. 
O happy isle ! thy fertile plains 
Repay wilh golden sheaves the swains; 
Thy verdant vales, and mountains steep, 
Are wtiiien'd o'er with fleecy sheep. 

55 
D^r rural scenes! the tufted tree. 
The llow'ry mead, have charms for me, 
ITiat far exceed the joys of courts. 
Where splendid mis'ry oft resorts; 
Where grief, disguis'd, like joy appears^ 
And hollow smiles hide starting tears. 

5^ 
Much rather let me stem the tide. 
Without a helm my bark to guide, 
The sport of wa\^s and fickle winds. 
Than, trust to sucji capricious minds. 
Where whim and passion bold the rein. 
And slighted reason pleads in vain* 

57 
Fond mem'ry o'er thy grave shall gi_vp 
A tear, to bid thy virHies live. 



Scanning. 83 

58 
Still o^er the genial hr>ars of spring 
Fell Discord wave^ her crimson wing : 
O'er bleeding Europe's nivag'd plains. 
The fieiKJ, m state terrifi*-, reigns; 
Nor oaten pipe, nor pabt'ral bong, 
Resounds her waving woocis among. 
Yet far from Albion's tranquil shores 
The stortn of desolation roars, 

59 
KoW' ev'rv brilliant moment seems 
Replete with fancy's airy dreams. 

60 
Jsloi from the warrior's laurel leaves 
The votive siarland now she weaves. 

61 
Beneath thy fost'ring reign benign, 
O best of kings ! let mercy shine. 

62 
From scene to ^cene we rove arid smiie ; 
Fond Hope our leader all the while. 
We fear no brooding storms of care; 
We dread no spell, no murd'rous snare. 

Iambic Verses often syllables ^ with a mixture of other 
feet besides the Iambus, 

63 
She points to Honor and her gorgeous train, 
But shows not disappointment, want, and pain. 



84 Scanning. 

64 
Bewilder'd Pride the swelling crest uprears, 
And causeless Penitence is drown'd in tears. 

65 
A second Paradise our senses greets, 
And Asia wafts us all her world of sweets. 

06 
Already, see! each schoolboy, ^prentice, clerk, 
Assumes the pistol, and demands the Park. 

67 
Nor deem, that all, the tuneful chords who strike, 
Are curs'd with base ingratitude alike, 

63 — Canute. 
He vainly bade each boisterous wave retreat. 
Nor tinge the surface of his royal feet. 

69 
But ah ! how chang'd ! The Muse, that once was gay, 
And wanton laugh'd the dancing hours away. 
No more shall wander o'er the flow'ry plains. 
Or vvaken Echo with her rural strains. 

70 
See, most tremendous ! o'er his beardless face, 
Th' enormous beaver, cock'd with soldier grace, 
Aslant and edgewise confidently hurl'd. 
Inviting broils, and braving all the world. 

71 
Though my dejected spirits pant for breath, 
And my soul flutters on the verge of death 

72 
And why should such (within herself she cried) 



Scanning. 85 

Lock the lost wealth, a thousand want beside ? 

73 
One tranquil eve, when Sol had sunk to rest. 
And gilt with splendid lints the glitt'ring west. 
Their daily task perform'd, this loving pair 
Walk'd forth to breathe the pure salubrious air. 

74 
Friends, country, children, wife, no more restrain; 
And fate and nature boast their laws in vain^ 

75 
Flush'd with revenge, each miscreant drew his dart. 
And plung'd it in the constant Oran's heart. 

76 
Alas ! Hope's rain-bow visions, how they fade ! 
How soon the sun-bright landscape sinks in shade ! 

77 
Go, seek distress ; explore the tents of woe: 
Kid the wan cheek with rosy tints to^low. 

78 
To Eve's fair daughters various virtues fall: 
But thou, lov'd charmer, hast exeell'd them all. 

79 
Blest she descends into the vale of years, 
With the lov'd partner of her youthful cares. 

80 
Smiles oft are fraudful ; beauty soon decays ; 
But the good woman shall inherit praise. 

81 
Rouse all thy pow'rs, for better use design'd ; 
And know thy native dignity of mind. 

H 



S6 Scanning* 

82 
Such were the hours, and such the scenes that charm'd : 
So nature glow'd, and so her beauties vvarm'd. 

83 
The glow of youth blooms lovely in his face, 
And fills each active limb with manly grace. 

84 
The wrinkled matron opes her treasur'd store 
Of fairy tales and legendary lore. ^ 

83 ' ^ 

Their tyrant rule has bhghted all thy time. 
And marr'd the promise of thy early prime. 

86 
Her love instructs a fair and num'rous race 
To share his glories, and supply his place. 

87 
See, with what calmness, what contempt of breath, 
The sons of Newgate hear the doom of death. 

88 
Why pass in slavery here the ling'ring hours, 
While Oran dwells in amarantine bow'rs ? 
Where rivers of delight for ever flow, 
And blushing fruits on trees immortal grow ; 
Where no rude tempests howl, no storms arise ; 
Where sans eternal gild the genial skies. 
Unfading flow'rets deck the verdant plains, 
And spring in gay profusion ever reigns. 

89 
Fain would the Muse each beauteous plant rehearse, 
And sing their glories in immortal verse. 



Scanning. B7 

90 
Oh ! heed not, youth, yon Siren's 'witching lay : 
Fly from her tempting accents : fly away. 
False are her sounds, her visions vain, though bright— 
A flitting rainbow's varied transient light. 

91 
Each manly sense, each charity refin'd ; 
Whate^'er illumines or exalts the mind. 

9^ 
For wisdom fam'd, for probity renown'd. 
She sits in council, with bright honor crown'd. 

93 
Peace crowns our cities, plenty loads our plains ; 
And aether rings with gratulating strains. 

94 
Greater than he who vanquished first the main. 
The Persian with a aiillion in his train. 
Himself soon vanquish'd by tiie Grecian chief, 
And homeward sent in solitary grief. 

95. — Epitaph on an In/'ant, 
Repose in peace, sweet babe ! this still domain 
Gives no admission to the tyrant, pain. 
Thy noblest part, thy spotless soul, is flown 
To scenes where dread misfortunes are unknown. 

96 
At length thy long-lost liberty regain : 
Tear the strong tie, and break th' inglorious chain : 
Freed from false hopes, assume thy native powVs, 
And give to Reason's rule thy future hours. 



88 Scanning. 

To her dominion yield thy trusting soul, 

And bend thy wishes to her strong control. 

97 
Pleas'd have I oft our little babe caress'd, 
And viewed him smiling at his mother's breast. 

98 
Early she riseS; ere bright Phoebus shines^ 
And to her damsels separate tasks assigns. 

99 
If to her farm some field contiguous lies, 
With care she views it, and with prudence buys. 

100 
Benignant, from her ever open door^ 
She feeds the hungry^ and relieves the poor. 

101 
Hope promised future bliss without alloy, 
And Fancy's pencil pictur'd scenes of joy. 
Ah, gilded visions ! fleeting, as they're fair } 
How soon those day-dreams vanish'd into air ! 

102 
Yes, Europe's polish'd sons approve the plan 
That fetters and enslaves their fellow man.... 
The wretched captive leaves his native shore. 
Ne'er to behold his much-lov'd country more. 

103 
Soon will misfortune their bright hopes destroy, 
And dash with gali the mantling cup of joy. 

104 
Nature wbuld drcop in everlasting nighty 
Unbless'd by Sol^ great source of heat and light. 



Scanning. 8^i 

105 
When tyrant Frost his strong dominion holds, 

And not a blade expands^ a bud unfolds 

When gathered I bunders burst abrupt and loud. 

And midnight lightening darts from, cloud to cloud, 

Or rends, with forceful momentary stroke, 

The ivied turret and the giant oak, 

Can faint remembrance of meridian mirth 

Bedeck with visionary charms the earth ? 

166 
She calls grim phantoms from the shadowy deep. 
And sends her Furies forth to torture sleep. 

107. — The kidnapped Negro Woman. 
Excess of grief forbade her tears to flow : 
She stood a living monument of woe. 
No tender friend was near, with kind relief 
To calm the wild extravagance of grief : 
No pity could the hapless maiden find : 
No scenes of sorrow touch the brutal mind. 
Th' inhuman villains bore their prize away, 
And gain'd the harbour where the vessel lay. 
Conveyed on board, she joined a numerous band 
Of fellow captives, pinion'd hand to hand. 

108. — ^ Slave- Ship. 
There husbands, torn from all their hearts held dear. 
In sullen silence drop the fruitless tear. 
Fond mothers there, to gloomy grief consign'd. 
Mourn for the tender babcb they left behind. 
Heart-cheering hope forsook the horrid place; 
And desperation lour'd in evVy face. 

H 3 



90 \ Scannings 

109 
The undertakers say, on corses fed, 
^^ Ah ! th«re's no man of value, till he ^s dead/' 

l\0. — True Beauty. 
What is the blooming tincture of the skin. 
To peace of mind, and harmony within ? 
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye, 
To the soft soothing of a calm reply ? 
Can comeliness of form, or shape^ or air. 
With comeliness of words and deeds compare ? 
No 1 those at first th^ unwary heart may gain : 
But these, these only, can that heart retain. 



91 



VERSIFICATION. 



Lines to be made into Ia?nbic Verses of eight sylla^ 
bleSf orfourfeet^ with the accent on the second, fourth, 
sixth, and eighth syllables:-^ each line to make one 
verse ; and the two lines of each couplet to rhime with 
each other. 



Ill 

And, while I feel thy gracious gifts. 
My song shall reveal all thy praise. 

112 
Bless'd with freedom, at early dawn^ 
O'er the verdant lav. n 1 wander, 

113 
Unheard I mourn^ I s;i?h unknown^ 
Live unfriended, die unpity'd. 

114 
The fleecy mothers stray'd below ; 
And their sportive lambkins ?lay'd round* 

115 
My friend, thy days flow serenely, 
Nor know any interruption. 

116 
The search shall teach thee to prize life. 
And make thee good, wise^ and grateful* 



92 Versification 

117 
The flock fly in wild disorder. 
And cast a frequent eye behind. 

118 
At last the contest rose so high, 
From words they almost came to blows, 

119 
Religion's beams shine around thee, 
And cheer thy glooms with divine light. 

120 
Henceforth I go to rural haunts. 
Through winter's snow and summer's heat. 

121 
Thou fly'st to scenes where Joy and Youth 
Employ their time with Love and Mirth. 

122 
With ease you wear a thousand shapes ; 
And still you please in ev'ry shape, 

123 
Leander bow'd to Hero's eyes : 
Her cheek glow'd with yielding blushes. 

124 
The Muse, ever true to merit^ 
Prepares the meed due to valour. 

125 
We raise the choral song to thee. 
To whom belong sublimer strains. 

126 
Supine beneath embow'ring shades, 
In wine he loves to drown his cares. 



Versification. 93 

127 
The impatient steed spurns the ground : 
The fuU-ton'd horns sound harmonious. 

128 
Neither wealth I pursue, nor powV, 
IS or hold in view forbidden joys. 

129 
And will you then ccmceal this wealth. 
For time to steal, or age to rust ? 

130 
Observant eyes confess her ways : 
Pursuing praises bless her steps. 

131 
The tim'roas breed knew the robber, 
And flevvr o'er the meadow, treinbling. 
The w^oif o'ertook Uieir niml)l st speed. 
And courteous thus bespoke the dam. 

The genial h.)urs and fragr^int airs 

Were shedding dews and flow'rs round him : 

Aurora pass'd before his wheels; 

And last was Hesper's golden lamp, 

133 
Their board is crown'd with flow'rs by thee;* 
Their walks resound with songs by thee; 
Their sprightly mornings shine by tnee. 
And ev'ning hours decline in peace. 

* N. B* Thee, thee, terminating two successive lines, will not 
make allowable rhiiTi^^. 



94 Versi/icalion. 

Iambic Verses of eight syllables ^ witl^ a miMure of 
different feet. 

134 
Repose^ ^weei babe \ cease thy crying : 
For thine 's an age of peace and truth. 

135 
Without another word, this fact 
Might aflfcrd a useful lesson. 

136 
Ever bound to one dear object, 
I ever search around for that. 

137 
Thousands bend, where'er she passes ; 
And thousands attend where she moves, 

138 
The flowVs, disclosed in early bloom, 
Repos'd upon her fragrant breast. 

139 
A mother may forsake her son : 
But I will ne'er break my covenant. 

140 
As a simple swain, one ev'ning, 
Attended his flock on the plain, 
He chanc'd to spy the shining bow. 
Which warns us when a show'r is nigh. 

341 
From the north if Winter bellow. 
The sweet Spring soon comes forth dancing. 



Versification, 95 

142 
Disputes are far too long, though short, 
When both are in tlie wrong ahke. 

143 
Ye great and rich, shut not your hearts 
Against the wand'rer at your gate. 

144 
Must I still complain of thy pow'r, 
And arraign thy too partial hand ? 

145 
But must the kind and the gentle 
Find thy fury, undistinguish'd ? 

146 
Yet base and cruel I am calTd, 
Who seek to release the wretched. 

147 
The fox, vers'd in deeper cunning, 
Rehears'd the beauties of her mind, 

148 
Now mounting high, now sinking low. 
The sailors cry, '^ We're lost ! we're lost !'' 

149 
Who would combine mirth and wisdom, 
Should confine his stint to three cups. 

150 
While I thus prolong my stay here. 
The silent night steals along, swift. 

151 
Now toil, thirst, and hunger, combined. 
To wring her mind, and numb her limbs. 



96 Versification. 

152 
Matur'd to happier days, he may 
Repay your care with filial love. 

153 
Ttie cares tliat fill ihj/ tale, are past : 
I bewail my present troubles. 

154 
But ah ! what dismal and dim shade 
Casts o'er the glade this strange horror r 

155 
But now the rugged North no more 
Pours forth half her population. 

156 
Tlirough the thick mist of fears and doubts, 
How hideous appears Death's fair form ! 

157 
Lovely Health ! divinest maid ! come, 
And lead me through the rural shade. 

158 
Tis he, who still keeps his promise. 
Though he sleeps wrapped in Death's cold arms. 

159 
Howe'er depress'd or exalted, 
Be the feeling breast ever mine. 

160 
Alike, the vain and the foolish 
Are strangers to the humane sense. 

161 
Fill'd with grief's distressful train, life 
For ever asks the humane tear. 



Versification^ 97 

Oh ! woman ! loveliest work of heav'n ! 
Giv'n for man's solace and delight, 

163 
Now the eastern breeze, soft rising, 
Plays through the quivering tree&, rustling, 

164 
If you scan all nature's system, 
Man is the only idle thing. 

165 
Discourse like this claimed attention : 
Grandeur inflam'd the mother's breast. 

166 
So spying, he flies on the lamb. 
The victim dies beneath his jaws. 

167 
Each 'i\^ell-known scene now appears dead^ 
The meadow green, the glassy brook. 

168 
They soon shall learn humility. 
And discern their own emptiness. 

169 
The watchman cried, " Past twelve o' clock :" 
The studious lawyer plied his brief. 

170 
The wretch shook with thrilling horror ; 
Pale his look, and loose ev'ry joint. 

171 
Lend to wiser heads attention, 
And from a friend learn this lesson. 



9^ Versijicution. 

172 
Still share my bosom with the Muse^ 
And soothe corroding care to peace. 

173 
So shall he discern right from wrong. 
And learn mercy from oppression, 

174 
Be thou the vessel's guide, kind heav'n : 
Divide the whelming waves for her. 

175 
Thy kindness knows no ebbing tide : 
It flows like some perpetual stream. 

176 
Tis thine to dwell, sweet modest flow'r ! 
In the thorny dell, secluded. 

177 
Carus, worn with pain and sickness, 
Sighs for morn, and chides the slow night. 

178 
I raise my song in bolder notes, 
To praise the deeds of Hercules. 

179 
When altars were dress'd to his name, 
His tears confessed that he was man. 

180 
I survey with indignation 
Such judgement and skill thrown away. 

181 
The subhme Heliconian fount 
Flows in rhime raarvelously well. 



Versification. 99 

182 
Suspend your follies^ if you can, 
And froni a friend learn instruction. 

183 
We toil to find a happiness, 
Which, like the wind, still avoids us. 

184 
His light dissolv'd those noists and clouds, 
Which long involvM our dark nation, 

185 
They say, a poor astrologer 
Went out, one luckless day, to walk, 

186 
While such pursuits engage your thoughts, 
You'll live an age in a few years. 

187 
And time, which removes all things else, 
Still heightens and improves virtue. 

188 
He who is a fool at fifty. 
Is grown far too stubborn for school, 

189 
Let others^ shine in foreign spoils : 
Intrinsic excellence is thine. 

190 
I descried a smiling landscape, 
DressM in the robes of summer pride. 

191 
Oh ! take me to some peaceful dell, 
To dwell with sweet content and thee. 



100 Versification. 

JJight and day had now already 
Held an equal sway o'er the world. 

193 
Thy deep abode is tremendou^^ 
And the fury of thy flood dire, 

194 
And now, at thy side, immortal. 
The beauteous captured bride still blooms* 

395 
The surgy din grows still louder ; 
The gale blows with wilder fury. 

196 
Ample pow'r and wealth attend me ; 
And my realms extend o'er the plains, 

197 
Alas ! thy page, poor Zimmermann I 
Betrays thy age and indolence. 

198 
.Disabled in the race, and tir'd. 
Ambition's fruitless chase I quit. 

199 
The British banner flies aloft 
To the skies in triumphant folds, 

200 
The Lesbian lute can charm no more^ 
Nor warm my once-panting bosom. 

201 
Not that those prizes shine with me ; 
For neither fame is mine, nor wealth.. 



Versification* 101 

202 
Ask, of heav'n, virtue, health, wisdom ; 
But never let wealth be thy prayV. 

203 
Still there remains one more labor, 
A greater perhaps than before. 

204 
Fear precludes the light, like a fog. 
And swells the object tothe sight. 

205 
Honorio turns from side to side. 
And now burns with insatiate thirst, 

206 
This frightful monster came from hell : 
Guilt was his name, and Sin his sire. 

207 
Let virtue be ever my guide, 
And preside o'er my secret thoughts. 

208 
The lucid waves roll along, soft^ 
And gently break among the rocks ^ 
Explore the strand in playful lapse. 
And waft to shore a pallid corse. 

209 
To foreign climes why do you roam. 
To study modes, times, and nations — 
A science often bought dearly. 
And often what nought avails you i 

210 
if heav'n, wise in ey'ry purpose^ 

I 3 



10£ Vcrsificatioiu 

Denies the envied lot of wealth^..... 
Still true to thee, Humanity^ 
The good 1 cannot do, ril wish* 

211 
Our pleasures must decay shortly^ 
And vanish away with ourselves; 
But virtue shall sustain the soul^, 
And soothe each agonising pain.. 

£12 
See terrific Mars advance next^ 
Who jo3rs in wars, uproar, ruin- — 
Fear, Flight, Fury, stand beside him. 
Prompt to fulfill his dread commands 

The summer past thus in pknty ^ 
At last revolving winter came. 
The trees no more yield a shelter : 
The verdure withers from the field. 

214 
Array'd in white, plain Innocence 
Lifts her fearless head before thee t 
JReligion's beams shine around thee,. 
And cheer thy glooms with divine light- 

215 
The flow'rs, that deck the field, are sweet ^ : 
The smell, the blossoms yield, is sweet :. 
The summer gale, that^blow^s, is sweet ; 
And the rose sweet, though sw^eeter you. 

^^ N. B. Sweet ^„.swc€t^ will not be allowable rhime* 



Versijication. 103 

216 
When Zephyrs stray o'er the blossom. 
And convey sweets along the air, 
Sha'n't I inhale the fragrant breeze, 
Because j/ow breathe a sweeter gale ? 

217 
The mnch-admiring crowd, awe-struck^ 
Bow'd before the virgin vision ; 
Gaz'd with an ever new delight, 
And, at the sight, caught fresh virtue* 

A fearful, profound, and black gulf 
Appears, the bound of either world. 
Leading up to light, through darkness. 
Sense shuns the sight, and shrinks backward* 

219 
With silent tread fate steals along, 
Oft'nest found in what we dread least ^ 
Frowns with ano;rv brow in the storm. 
But strikes the blow in the sunshine* 

220 
All external things combine now 
To make thy days shine unclouded ; 
And kindly has providence shed 
On thy head its choicest blessings^ 

221 
jNear him stood his fav'rite spaniel,. 
And sharM his food with his master,..,*.,^^ 
Till, sated, he now lay supine. 
And suor'd away the rising fmnes*. 



104 , Versification. 

The noblest minds prove their virtue 
By love, sympathy, and pity. 
These, these are truly fine feelings, 
And prove their owner half divine. - 

I reach my native plain once more. 
Where reign all the peaceful pleasures : 
My longing eye devours once more 
Her shady bow'rs and crystal stream. 

Grown restive by long indulgence. 
She minded no will but her own. 
She'd oft scold and fret at trifles, 
Then take a seat in u corner. 
And, moping all tlie day sourly. 
Disdain alike to play or work. 

225 
Divines confess that life's a game ; 
This says, at cards, and that, at chess. 
But, if we centre our views here, 
I fear 'tis all a losing game. 

226 
The furious god of war too long 
With his iron car has crush'd us. 
Along our ruin'd plains has rag'd. 
With his cruel stains has soil'd them^ 
In endless sleep has sunk our youth. 
And made the widow'd virgin weep» 



Versification. 105 

£27. — Virtue. 
I tell unwelcome truths, indeed : 
But mark well my sacred lesson : 
Whoever lives at strife with me, 
Loses, for life, his better friend : 
Who lives in friendship's ties with me. 
Finds all that 's sought for by the wise. 

228 
I keep, with watchful diligence, 
His fleecy sheep from prowling wolves -^ 
Secure his midnight hours at home, 
And drive from his door the robber. 
His breast glows with kindness for this^ ; 
His hand bestows the food for this. 

229 
A long farewell to Britain's isle. 
Where pleasures dwell, and plenty smiles ! 
Ye woods all waving wide, farewell. 
Ye vales attir'd in summer's pride. 
Ye tow'rs, that rise in air proudly. 
Ye cots, so fair and so cleanly ! 

230 
But, if thou com'st with austere frown, 
To nurse the brood of fear and care,.... 
Wisdom, I disclaim thine empire, 
Thou empty boast of pompous name ! 
Dwell in gloomy shade of cloisters ; 
But never haunt my cheerful cell. 

* Thls.^this, cannot be admitted as proper rhirae. 



106 Versification. 

231 
Let me but hope content from wealthy 
Still rememVring it was but lent ; 
Spread my store to modest merit, 
My hospitable door unbar. 
Nor feed an idle train for pomp, 
While unpitied want sues in vain. 

232 
A prowling cat spies the sparrow. 
And expands her amber eyes wide. 
Grimalkin draws near and more near ; 
She protends her claws, wags her tail ; 
Then, springing on her thoughtless prey, 
She bears away the shrieking bird. 

233 
No costly paintings grace my rooms : 
The huinbier print supplies their place. 
My garden hes behind the house. 
And opens to the southern skies. 
The distant hills yield gay prospects. 
And, in ev'ry field, plenty smiles. 

234 
Would'st thou bind the gen'rous lion ? 
Bribe him to be kind by kindness. 
He gives with n)uiii plying hand 
The good he receives from others, 
Or makes fair return for the bad. 
And pays scorn for scorn, with interest. 

235 
The love, that cheers life's latest stage. 



Versification. 107 

Proof against old age and sickness,,.,. 
Is kind, delicate, and gentle. 
Compassionate or blind to faults, 
And will endure with sympathy 
Those evils it would cure gladly. 

The prudent nymph, whose cheeks disclose 
The blushing rose and the lily. 
Will screen her charms from public view. 
And rarely be seen in the crowd. 

237 
Oppressed with heaviness and toil. 
Seek not the flow'ry bank for rest. 
Though the bow'ring woodbine spread there 
O'er thy head its fragrant shelter. 
Though Zephyr should long linger there. 
To hear the sky-lark's tuneful song. 
Heedless youth, thou shalt awake there 
The vengeance of the coiling snake. 

238. — To Zimmermann, on Solitude. 
Fond enthusiast, cease to obtrude 
The love of solitude on man : 
Cease, cease, with faint and gay colors, 
To paint that sickly nymph's retreat. 
Her slothful ease and silent shades 
May please the old and impotent ; 
But the brisk eye and firm muscle 
Shall fly at distance from her haunts. 

239 
As the maid now grew in stature, 



108 Versificatmi. 

(A flow'r just op'ning to the view) 

She oft stray 'd through her native lawns, 

And play 'd with the lambkins, wrestling. 

Her looks bequeath'd diffusive sweets : 

As she breath'd, the breeze grew purer : 

The morn assum'd her rosy blush ; 

The spring bloom'd with earlier fragrance; 

And nature took delight yearly 

To dress the world in white, like her. 

£40 
The morning blush'd ; the shades were fled ; 
The winds were hush'd in their caverns; 
When Hymen, sedate and pensive, 
Held his musing gait o'er the fields. 
Through the green-w^ood shade, behind him, 
The god survey'd Death's meagre form, 
Who, with gigantic stride, quickly 
Outwent his pace, and join'd his side. 
The chat ran on various subjects, 
^Till angry Hymen began thus. 

241.— To a Redbreasi. 
From icy sprays and snowy plains, 

Trom sunless da3^s and moonless n]ghts> 

Helpless, panting guest ! thrice welcome ! 

In my breast Til fondly warm thee 

A captive's doom thou need'st not dread. 
No ! flutter round my room freely.... 
At my lonely meal, no longer 
I'll feel alone, while thou art by ^ 
For, devoid of all distrust, soon 



Versification. 109 

Tbou'lt share my humble crust, nibbling.... 
Heedless of the raving blast, thus. 
Till winter 's past, thou'lt dwell with me. 

242 
Friend ! forbear, o'er this sepulcre, 
The pitying tear, the plaintive sigh. 
My death supplies no just pretence 
To dim thine eyes, or heave thy breast. 
Grac'd with children's children, one wife 
Walk'd down the vale of hfe with me. 
My joyous hands three blooming youths 
Entwin'd in Hymen's blissful bands..... 
I sh^d, through life, no streams of grief 
O'er child or grandchild, dead or sick. 
To my departed shade, by them, 
The rite was paid, the tear was pour'd t 
Convey dio eternal rest thus. 
Supremely blest in life, in death. 

243 
In triple row, the pine-apples 
Were basking hot, and all in blow> 
A bee of most discerning taste. 
As he pass'd, perceiv'd the fragrance. 
The spoiler came on eager wing. 
And search'd in the frame for crannies, 
Urg'd his attempt on ev'ry side, 
Applied his trunk to ev'ry pane. 
But still in vain : tight was the frame, 
And pervious to the light only. 
Having wasted half the day thus, 

K 



1 to Versification. 

Another way he trimm'd his flight. 
Methinks I find in thee, said I, 
The madness and sin of mankind. 
Man aspires to forbidden joys. 
With vain desires consumes his soul ; 
Folly the spring of his pursuit. 
And all the fruit, disappointment...*.. 
Such are often our dear delights. 
To view, but not to touch, expos'd. 
The sight inflames our foolish heart; 
We long for pine-apples in frames. 

244 
The prophet of the Turk says thus, 
'' Abstain from pork, good musselman* 
In ev'ry swine, there is a part. 
No friend of mine or follower 
May taste, whate'er his inclination, 
On pain of excommunication." 
Such Mahomet's mysterious charge ; 
And he left the point at large thus. 
Had he expressed the sinful part. 
They might eat the rest with safety : 
But they thought it hard, for one piece. 
To be (lebarr'd from the whole hog, 
And set their wit at work, to find 
What joint the prophet had in mind. 
Straight arose much controversy: 
These cliose the back, those the belly. 
Tis confidently said by some, 
He meant not to forbid the head ; 



Vemfication. Ill 

While others rail at that doctrine. 

And piously prefer the tail. 

Thus, conscience freed from evVy clog, 

Mahometans eat the hog up. 

You laugh ! 'tis well. — Tlae tale, applied. 

May make you laugh on t'other side 

The preacher cries, *' Renounce the world/' 

A multitude replies, " We do^" 

While one regards, as innocent, 

A friendly and snug game at cards, 

And, whatever you may say, one, 

In a play, can see no evil. 

Some love a race or a concert. 

And others the chase or shooting. 

Revil'd and lov'd, followed and renoune'd, 

The world is thus swallow'd, bit by bit. 

245 
My course is sped in youth's soft prime j 
Yet many a flow'r has spread my path. 

€46 
If presumptuous foes dare invade. 
Our country cries for aid to us : 
Our children spread their hands to m: 
We guard the nuptial bed fr -m wrong. 
From 2is, who feel the joys of home, 
The vengeful steel falls like lightning. 



1 12 Versification. 

Iambic mrse$ often syllabhs. 

247 
As Orpheus^ tunes his song in Thracian wilds, 
The raptur'd beasts throng around him in cro\yds. 



* Orpheus, — This word contains only two syllables. Tn Orpheu^ 
TheseiiSj Proteus, and a very numerous list of Greek names of 
similar termination, the EU is a diphthong, as in Europe, Eu" 
charisty Eulogy, Euterpe, 6cc, In the original Greek, it is in- 
variahly a diphthong : hi Latin, likewise, it is almost always so ; 
for the examples of diaeresis in such names are so veryfezo, bs 
not to merit the slightest attention. This I can safely venture 
to assert, after the pains which I have bestowed in minutely 
searching through the entire collection of the ancient Latin 
poets, for authorities and examples of every kind, to be inserted 
in my " Latin Frosody :'' and let me further observe, that Mil- 
ton, Dryden, Pope — in short, every English poet, who had any 
pretensions at all to classical kribwledge, has paid due regard to 
classic propriety in these cases, by making the^Z/a diphthong, 
I therefore* advise my young readers carefully to avoid, in prose 
as well as in poetry, the gross impropriety of dividing the EUS 
of Orpheus, &c. into cwo syllables, and always to pronounce it 
as a single syllable, nearly like the French verb Eu^e, or the 
English noun Use. At the same time be it remembered that 
Feneus and Alpheus (the names of two celebrated rivers) are tri- 
syllabic words, and have the middle syllable long and acceHted. 
—There are several other Greek names in EUS, which have the 
£-17 in sera, ate syllables, with the jE long and accented in some 
instances, and la others short and un-accented : but to enume- 
rate and discriminate them would be a tedious and laborious 
task. Tiviotheus, however, and Briareus, seem to require parti' 



248 
The mountain seems to throw a sable gloom. 
Shades the glen below, and imbrowns the steep. 

ealar noliee — Timotheus co\-\\.^\\-\% faur distinct syllables: and, 
although Dryden has, by 'poetic licence, used it as three, in the 
following and some other lines of his ^^ Alexander's Feast— ^ 

*^ Revenge 1 revenge ! Tirr.otheus cries" — 
it is clear that he did not consider it as a proper trisyllabic ; 
because, in such case, be must have accented it on the first syl- 
lable, like its English offspring, Timothy ; the second being ori- 
ginally short, and our usual mode of pronunciation forbidding us 
to place an accent on a short penultimate; whereas, in Ti-mo^ 
the-uSy the syllable -ikfO-, being then the antepenultimate, natu- 
rally admits the accent, which he has correctly preserved. In 
his lines, therefore, (the EXJ not being a dipththong) the EJJS 
is not to be pronounced like the French Eusse, as in Orpheus, 
Froteus, &c, but like the EOUS in our English Beauteous^ 
which, though in reality a word of three syllables, i^ usually pro- 
nounced as ^zi^o, by synsresis. — In Briar eus, the case is diiTe- 
rent: the E'U\s here a proper diphth.ong: the word contains 
only three syllables; and so we find it in Virgil, Ovid, Lucan, 
and other Latin poets, who all have its second syllable short, as 
it likewise is found in a verse of Homer, which I shall presently 
notice. Accordingly, Dryden, in his translation of Virgil, has^ 
with perfect propriety, used BriareuSy2i% a trisyllabic word, with 
the second syllable short, ?aid the accent on the first, viz. 

Before the passage, horrid Hydra stands^ 

And Briareus. with all his hundred hands. (jEa. 6. 401.) 
If it be said that Milton has made it four syllables, because, ia 
the common edidons of his '^Paradise Losiy'' (1. i&9) we iind 

Briareus, or Typhon, whom the den 

By ancient Tarsus held — 
I have only to reply, that the passage is falsiiied and dlsfigmsd 

K 3 



11 4 Versijicatmu 

S49 
How long shall man survey creation's boons, 
And madly throw away its richest pearls r 

The fresh'ning breezes sweep away the clouds^ 
That hid the golden orb of day awhile. 

£51 
She made a little stand at ev'ry turn. 
And thrust her lily hand among the thorns. 



by the inaccuracy of either printers or editors, and that, in bet- 
ter editions, we read Briareos ; the name being written in two 
v^-ays, viz. Briarfus, of three syllables, as in Virgil, Ovid, and 
Lucan, above noticed — and BriareoSj of four, wbicb occurs in 
Homer's Iliad, 1. 493, and in Hesiod, Theog. 349. In Pope's 
translation of Homer's line, the common editions ma'ke him 
guilty of a gross violation of prosody in lengthening and accent- 
ing the short penultima of the trisyllabic Briareus — thus — 

Whom gods Brtdreus, men iEgseon name. (v. 523.) 
But I doubt not, that, after the example of his author, and of 
Milton, he intended Briareos, which, as a word of four syllables, 
properly admits t[je accent on the second — and that be meant 
nsynddresis of the third and fourth, such as he had before his 
eyes in the very line wbicb he was translating, where the ac- 
casative, Brlare^n^ is reduced by synsresis to three-— and such 
as Shakespear three times exhibits in the name Borneo, in the 
following line — 

O Eo??26r? .' IXomeo / wherefore art thou EomiJo f 
which is only a common five-foot Iambic, witb a redundant 
syllable. [*^* Part of this note is extracted from a letter of 
mine, in reply to a querist in the ^' Ladfs Magcmne;' for No- 
vembtr, 1.^0b>,] 



Vemjication. 115 

He brought back the beauteous dame io triumph, 
With whom came her sister, fair Emilia. 

lamhic Verses of ten sj/ 1 /a hies, with a mixture of other 
feet besides the Iambus, 

To partake of those sublimer pleasures, 

I would forsake the world and all its charms. 

While the shepherd, free from passion, tlms sleeps^ 
A mdnarch might see his state with en\y. 

"255 
Fair order and rule dwell ia her mansion : 
What she earns so well, she eats with temp'rance. 

9.56 
With more than mortal sound the pavement rang; 
Huge stones, uprooted from the ground, flew wide. 

257 
Fiends incarnate, who, void of shame or fear. 
Dare to assume the ChristiaD's sacred name. 

258 
At length I sink to rest, sad and hopeless, 
Oppressed by solitude, sorrow, silence. 

259 
Led on by me, bravely dare the danger^ 
Share the perils and the glory with me. 

260 
Thirsting for immortal fame, the hero 



1 16 Versification. 

Had rather* die noblv, than live with shame. 

e6i 

We tend to th' appointed place, like pilgrims : 
The world's an inn, and Heath ihe jouroev^s end. 

* Had rather, — Dr. Johnson has some** here st fcrmitised this 
phrase as a vuli^ar b-arbansra ; and manj irodern writers, iofia* 
enced, I presume, Hj bis authoritv, have otterly discarded it, to 
adopt Would rather in its place. Bat, hows ver great the Ten€- 
ratioo, winch I entertain, in other respects, for Dr. Jobnson^s 
transcendent abilities, I cannot, in the present instance, subscribe 
to his opim n, without wilfully shutting ray eyes atjainst the 
light. Hadrafher is genuine Eniii'ish, and a very good expres- 
siaiiy if rightly understood. Hadh here in the imperfect tense 
8ubjuncti\e : nnd, when a laan savs^^for exaflfjple, ^ I hud rather 
die than submity* the nieaning is, " I uould ruthtr h^ire [or 
take, or choose^ to die, than to submit/'' — But, as some modern 
gram! .arians deny the existence of a subjunctive mood in En- 
glish, it may he well to recollect that the groand-work of oar 
language is borrowed from the German. Now the German lan- 
guage most evidently and undeniably has a siibjunctive mood, 
which is more particularly conspicuous in the very numerous 
host of irregular reibs^ because, in the generality of these, the 
present and iii) perfect of the subjunctive mood are found mate- 
rially to differ from the same tenses of the indicative. I shall 
here quote two txamples, which we can exactly parallel in En- 
glish — Indicative, " Ick war,'' I xas — Subjunctive, " Ich zc'dre,'^ 
or ** ware' [prounounced, in cither case, icayre^ I &ere, i. e. I 
KOuld or should he . — Indie. " Ich hattc,*' I had — Subj ** Ich 
h'dtte, or hatU [pronounced, in either case, hai/tte\ I zsould or 
should have, Mow this kcctte, or hatie, is the very word used in 
our good old English form, *• had rather,*^ and in such phrases 
as '^hcd I the means, I would doit," — '^ had I been there, 
I would have done it;'* — and its present want of a distinctive 



Versification. ^^7 

262 
Take what God gives, since to rebel is vain. 
The bad, which we sustaiii well, grows belter. 

263 
A holy and a happy pair lie here, 
They now share in gloiy, as once in grace. 

264 
He strove, in Scythia, with the warrior queen, ^ 
AVhom, first by force, then by love, he conquer'd.. 



character to discriminate it from had of the indicative, is easily 
accounted for. When the hatte of the indicative was changed 
to had, the subjunctive hdtte naturally underwent a similar me- 
tamorphosis, and btone hdd [pronounced hayd]. In process 
of time, particularly after the Norman conquest had l.ani=ned 
the Anglo-Saxon lani^uage fron, tho court a>.d the pohie circles, 
the distinctio.i between had and had wu= gradually obliterated, 
till at Wn-th both words were uid.scriminately pronounced had. 
- If Dr. Johnson had looked to th. Ger.nan, he certamly would 
not have reprobated, as barbarous, a long-established and per- 
fectly grammatical form of expression. But, of his unfortunate 
want of acquaintance with that" language (so indispen»al ly re- 
quisite to an English lexicograpi.er) a truly ludicrous instance 
,ccurs in his Dictionary, under the word, Eooby. At a loss 
or its etymology, he quotes the authority of a fanciful prede- 
essor, who derives the word from Bull-beef. ' I ! \V.£.her this 
was intended as a complim.nl to Mr. John Bull,^^ .t honest 
John and his progeny were the raost notable boobies m Europe, 
I pretend not to determine. But, be that as it may, :he word 
Boohy is pure German, viz. Bubt [pronounced booLl] which 
signifies a child, a boy, a great awkward hoy, an oaf— in short, a 
fr,o6:/ -without a single particle of John BuU'sbeef in h« whole 
cojnpositiaii. 



J 18 Versification. 

t(}5. — The Planet Saturn. 
A wond'rous circle clings round his huge form, 
And, with lucid rings, girds his frozen globe. 

2QQ. — The Planet Jupiter. 
Four bright satellites^ attend his orb. 
And lend their borrowed radiance to his night. 

£67 
My breast labors now with oppressive care ; 
And the falling tear descends o'er my cheek. 

£68 
Distrust mankind : confer with your own heart ; 
And dread to find a flatterer e'en there. 



* Satellites. — AXihim^ Satellites h% commonly pronounced, 
in English^ as three s}rllables, and accented on the first, it must, 
ill the present instance, be pronounced as four, and accented on 
ihe second ; the word being here pure Latiriy as in Pope's Essay 
on Man, Fpist. i. 42 — 

"Or ask of yonder argent fields above, 
" Why Jove's satellites are less than Jove/' 
Pope, it is true, has been accused of an almost unpardonable 
poetic licence in :hus accenting the word: but there was not 
the slightest ground for such accusation, as there is not even 
a shadow of poetic licence in the case. Had he, as a Latin 
word, accented it on the first syllable after the English fashion, 
he would have shown himself grossly ignorant of what is well 
known to every school-boy who has learned the Latin declen- 
sions, viz. that the Latin Satellites neither is nor can be other* 
wise accented than on the second syllable : and he would have 
been equally ridiculed by every classical scholar^ as if he had 
accented Themistocks and Achilles on the first, and curtailed 
them to Thcm^ stocks iind Ach^les. 



Versification. 1 19 

269 
Lov'd Charity, seraph of earth, appears. 
And drops celestial tears on human griefs^ 

270 
Tell them, I still hope to live triumphant. 
And revive in bliss with them after death. 

£71 
The honor, which the Muse conveys, is faint. 
If, void of truth, she lavish wanton praise* 

i 272 

' O genial Nature ! preside o'er my soul : 
Guide the trembling hand of feeling friendship. 

273 
I'll deck his humble tomb with pious care. 
And bid the mem'ry of his virtues bloom. 

274 
To gain your praise, was all my ambition. 
And to please i/ou alone, all ray pleasure. 

275 
He bids his car to rise from earth's low orb, 
And sails through the trackless skies, adventVous. 

276 
Though, with her laughing eyes. Pleasure hail thee, 
Thy crimes will soon rise in direful judgement, 
, 277 

f Conceive a maid crown'd with evVy virtue. 
Renowned alike for wit and for beauty. 

278 
His speech restrained the tempest of her grief; 
And the maid regain'd awhile her lost peace. 



120 Versification. 

279 
The sun turns^ revolving on his axis. 
And burns intensely with creative fire. 

280 
Alas ! the gilded prospects fled too soon, 
Leaving, in their stead, despair and mis'ry. 

281 
Jack may well be vain of his fine feelings ; 
For he has felt a cane most acutely. 

£82 
Succeeding ages shall hear his triumph, 
And blend a tear with their admiration. 

283 
Oh ! discard for a while the vulgar joys 
Of unmeaning noise and empty pageant. 

284 
Where'er he flies, suspicion haunts the wretch: 
He lives hated, and dies unlamented* 

285- 
Though he shine here, bright in polish'd lustre, 
His fainter light is scarce seen in the heav'ns. 

286 
Stern Diana's altar stood in Tauris^, 
Drench'd with human blood, and girt with terrors. 



* Tauris. — ^This appellation of the Crimea (or Tauric Cher- 
sonnesus), lately revived by Riassian Catharine, is sometinnes 
improperly written Taiirida ; an error, which originated in 
hasty translations from the French, by persons who happened 
not to recollect the ancient name, or the French usage in form- 



Fersification. V2,l 

£87 
See stern defiance lour on Satan's brow. 
And Hell's grim legions pour all around him. 

288 
Then man, blest with universal concord. 
Shall clasp to his breast each brother and friend. 

£89 
Vain the giddy strife for hondr^^nd gold: 
A useful life is the first of honors. 

290 
Modest Worth pines there in secret sorrow. 
And reclines his head, far from ev'fy joy. 

£91 
If you want, earn : impart, if you abound. 

ing terminations. In this and many similar gasesj where the 
ancient name of a country (I do not say, of a town) ends in 75, 
the French closely follow the practice of the Italians, who, in 
almost innumerable instances, form their nouns from the Latiii 
ablative, as Libro, Vino, Castello, Pane, Ccsare, Ciceroyie, 
Thus the Latin Tauris (ablative, Tauride) becomes, in Italian, 
Ihuride, o^ three syllables, and, in French, Tauride, of two— as 
Aulis, Colchis, Phocis, are rendered Aulide, Colchide, Phocide, 
in Mons. Dacier's Horace, and Madame Dacier^s Homer. And, 
since it has not been judged proper, in English, to transform the 
names of tli^se last-mentioned countries into Aulida^ Colchida, 
Phocida, it, is much to be regretted that some respectable 
writers, who cannot be suspected of ignorance, have, with too 
great a facility of condescension, adopted from those translators 
the irregular appellation of Taurida, instead of setting them 
right by their own example, which would .have been deferen- 
tially received as aytliority, and have finally preponderated with 
thepubiic. 



122 Versification. 

To the feeling heart, these both are pleasures. 

The favorite child, without strict discipline. 
Runs wild, like a neglected forester. 

Can gold make reason shine, or calm passion ? 
Gan we, from the mine, dig wisdom or peace ? 

£94 
If attir'd in heav'nly truths, religion, 
To be admir'd, needs only to be seen. 

£95 
The slaves of established mode and custom, 
We keep the road with pack-horse constancy. 

£96 
He that has a father's heart, will not blush 
To take a childish part in childish plays. 

£97 
Lofty hills now display their verdant crowns^ 
Emerging into day in vernal pomp. 

£98 
The boasted skill of old practitioners'^ 
Could avail nought to check the growing ill. 

* Practitioners, — How this word could ever gain an esta- 
blished footing, in our language, I am utterly at a loss to con- 
ceive: but I hope that the gentlemen of the liberal professions, 
to whom it is usually applied, may brand it with theiririarked 
disapprobati<)n, and, as a mis-created monster, hunt it from 
the circles of polished society, to herd in future with vulgar 
" Musitioners^* and " Folltiiioners.^'—'Aii, from the French 
MusicieHf Logicieji, Mathmaticieuj we have formed Musician, 



Versification, 123 

The eye of morn lends its brightness in vain : 
The eve sends its frolic Zephyr in vain. 
For me, whom fate beguiles of ev'ry joy, 
No beauty smiles, and no music Avarbles. 



Wafted by thy gentle gale, blest Mem'ry 1 
I oft turn my sail up the stream of time. 
To view the fairy haunts of long-lost hours. 
Blest with far fresher flovv'rs, far greener shades. 

301 
I pity bashful men, who feel the pain 
Of undeserv'd disdain and fancied scorn, 
And bear, upon a blushing face, the marks 
Of self-impos'd disgrace, and needless shame. 

302 
We come from our eternal rest with joy. 
To see th' oppressor oppress'd in his turn **...* 
^Tis thus Omnipotence fulfils his law; 
And, what Justice wills. Vengeance executes. 

303 
Without her heav'nly guide, Philosophy 

Logician, Mathematician, so we ou^ihi to form Practician from 
the French Praticien — re-Jiistating, of course, the c or /c of the 
original Greek, Practicoi:^ which is omiited !n the Freiirn, only 
for the sake of a softer sound. — With respect to Puri.shioner, 
improperlj formed from the French Paroissien in the auie irre- 
gular manner as Practitioner and Musitioner above, it were 
fruitless to attempt the extirpation of an error now inveterate 
in the language, and too deeplv rooted to allow any hope of 
succes?. 



1^4 Versification, 

May nourish pride, and blow up self-conceit^ 
But, while the reasoning part is her province. 
Has still on her heart a veil of midnight. 

304. — The Christian. 
With unmanly fears he holds no parley : 
He confidently steers, where duty bids ; 
At her call, faces a thousand dangers. 
And surmounts them all, trusting in his God. 

305 
When life is new, our joys are not num'rous; 
And some of the few are falling yearly, 

306 
Seek not thou, with vain endeavour, to find 
The secret counsels of almighty mind. 
The great decree lies involv'd in darkness ; 
Nor can the depths of fate by thee be pierc'd. 

307 
Oh ! wipe the falling dew from Sorrow^s cheek : 
The sons of want renew to you their plaint. 
Impart the balm of kind relief again. 
And glad the aching heart with timely aid. 

308 
The tnorsel valour gains, is sweet to me: 
The homely cup which freedom drains, is sweet : 
The joys which independence knows, are sweet ; 
And revenge, wreaked on insulting foes, sweet. 

309 
A naked new-born child, on parent's knees 
Th.vou sat'st vveeoino, while alt smil'd around thee. 
So live, that, sinking in thy last long sleep, 



Versification.' 1^5 

Thou may^st smile calm, when all weep around tViee. 

310 
Pleasures are few ; and we enjoy fewer : 
Pleasure is bright and coy, like quicksilver : 
With oar utmost skill we strive to grasp it : 
It eludes us still, and it still glitters. 

311 ' 
^^ Can this be true f * cries an arch observer. — 
*^ True ! yes, 'tis true ; with these eyes I saw it." — 
^^ On that ground alone, sir^ I believe it : 
Had I seen it with my own, I could not." 

312 
A tale should be succinct, clear, j udicious ; 
The incidents well link'd, the language plain. 
Tell not what ev'ry body knows, as new; 
And, new or old, hasten still to a close. 

313 
Though array'd in Vulcanian panoply, 
Patroclus^ betray'd his native weakness. 



* Patroclus. — This name must here take the accent on the 
first syllable, and have the second short; which, in fact, is the 
genuine classic pronunciation, though Mr. Pope, in translating 
Homer, chose to make it Tatrodus, for the sake of metrical 
convenience; Patroclus being better suited tj the nature of 
iambic verse than Patroclus. A late writer, after having quoted 
the authority of some modern lexicographers, and given his own 
vote in favor o£ Patroclus, calls for a reason why he should not 
be at liberty to accent Patrocles and Patrocli in the same man- 
ner. — -A very simple and obvious reason might easily have been 
given, without recurring to modern authoritie8 in a case .where 

L 3 



1 £6 Femjfic&tion^ 

When, tempting the unequal fight rashly. 
Beneath resistless Hector's might he fell. 
Taught by Ai5 superior prowess to know, 
How different real worth from empty show. 

314 
Oh ! could some poet rise, bold in wisdom. 
And unfold half thv beauties to the world. 



they cannot possibl/Tiave the smallest weight, as the question 
must be decided by one universal and invariable rule, well known 
to every school-boy who has read even the first page of the La- 
tin prosody. The rule is, that a short vowel, immediately pre- 
ceding a mute and liquid is rendered, by such position, not ne- 
cessarily long, but simply common; that is Co say, that, although 
it still remain short in prose, it may, in poetry, be made either 
long or short, at the writer's option, as I have shown by various 
examples in my " Latin VrosodyJ^ Now, Patroclus, Pat rocks, 
Andr^cles, NicMe^, Metrocks, Damocks, &c. being written in 
Greek with the O-micron^ or short O, that 0, though rendered 
common in poetry by the following mute and liquid, still con- 
tinues short in Greek and Latin prose : consequently, it ought 
to be so pronounced in English prose ; and, as our language does 
not admit a licentious two-fold pronunciation, it ought to be 
equally short in our poetry. Indeed the warmest admirer of 
ancient literature would certainly laugh at any writer who 
should, in English verse, transform the well-known prosaic 
names of Pertcks, Sophbcks, Themhtacks, to Ferlcks, Sophocks, 
Themisiocks, though such transformation is perfectly allowable 
in Greek and Latin*— The same unvarying rule applies to Dory- 
clus, JphYclus, and many other names, which are too often mis- 
accented and mispronounced by persons un-acquainted with the 
<incient languages.— See the note on Androcks^ page 129, No. 
321. 



Venification*. 1€7 

Roving on fancy's wing, impart tbjc fire^ 
And feel thy genius beaming on his heart — 
I'd wish humbly, though the wish would be vain. 
That on me some small portion might alight. 

315. — To England, o?i the Roman Invasion. 
At this distant moment, thy language shows. 
How much the country owes to the conc[u'ror: 
Refin'd, energetic, and expressive^ 
It sparkles with the gems he left behind. 
When he came, he brought thy land a blessing : 
Savage he found thee^ and tame he left thee. 

316 
The scenes of life, when confess'd and present,. 
Stamp on the breast but their bolder features i 
Yet not an image, when view'd remotely, 
However rude, and however trivial, 
But wakes the social sigh, and wins the heart. 
With ev'ry claim of close affinity. 

317 
Rich harvests fill each undulating vale : 
Trees crown the waving hill : flow'rs deck the mead. 
Oaks throw a show'r of acorns from their boughs \ 
In the trunk below, bees hoard their nectar. 
Large flocks, that whiten and spread o'er the field. 
Yield to the shepherd their fleecy tribute. 

318.—. Sir Robert Walpole. 
Thus was he form'd to please and to govern : 
Dignity with ease, familiar greatness, 
. Composed his frame : in ev'ry state, admir'd ; 
Great in public, amiable in private ^ 



128 Versification. 

In pow'r, gentle, but, in disgrace, darino-; 

His love was liberty^ peace was his wish. 

319 
Darius tow'r'd in pride high on his throne : 
The fair Jpame^' grac^i the sov'reiga's side; 
And she smil'd now, and, with mimic frown, now 
Plac'd the monarch's sacred crown on her brow. 
He bends o'er her faultless form in transport. 
Loves ev'r}' look, and commends ev'ry act. 

3£0. — A Miser, 
He wore a threadbare cloak, and rusty hat r 
At charge of other jfoZA'f he din'd and supp'd : 
And, had he held out his palms, by his looks. 
An object fit for alms he might be thought. 
So, if he refus'd his pelf to the poor. 



* Apame, — The elegant and ingenious author of these lines 
}jas used a poetic licence in lengthening the middle syllable of 
this name, vvhich must here accordingly be made Afdme, though 
its real quantity is Apame. — But, as some of our dictionaries say 
otherwise, it may be necessary to add, that, although perhaps no 
ancient verse can be produced, in wliich the name appears, there 
occurs, in Priscian's geographical poem, a line (quoted in my 
** Latin Prosodi/,'^ sect. 3) which mentions the city of Apamea^ 
denominated from Apame ; and, by a well-known rule of ancient 
prosody, the quantity of the derivative proves that the primitive 
Apame has the middle syllable short. 

t Tolk.- — These lines are from Swift, whose suffrage we thus 
luckily have in favor of grammatic propriety ; folk being a sin- 
gular noun of multitude, like yeople ; and neither of them ad- 
mitting a plural, unless (like the Latin popull and the Frencli 
peuples) we were to s^y folks- or peoples, for nations,. 



Versification. 1^ 

Full as kindly as himself he us'd them. 

32 1 . — Androcles and the Lien. 
When the lion rears his terrific form, 
Lo! Androcles^ appears half dead with fright. 
But^ when the lion views his well-known face, 
How soon he renews his former friendship ! 
The grateful brute lies on the ground, fawning, ^ 
And licks the hand that had erst heal'd his wound. 

322. — The Planet Jupiter. 
Revolving earth must run her course twelve times, 
Ere, round the sun, the vast planet journeys, 
four radiant moons guide the mighty monarch, 
And dance by his side in bright succession ; 
Eclips'd and eclipsing, move around him. 
And light the night of Jove with cnanging beams. 
Round the sacred oak, gay with garlands, thus 
In bright array the rural virgins dance. 

323 
We die in part, as those we love decay : 
String after string from the heart is severed ; 
Till loosen'd life, but breathing clay at last. 
Is glad to fall away without one pang 

* Androcles, — This name, like some other Greek names of 
kindred derivation^ is written in two ways, Androclus and Andru- 
c/e5, as, in Homer, we find one and the same individual indis- 
crimiaately called Pairochis and Patrocles. — In Aulus Gellius, 
the name is Androclus — in iElian, Androcles; which latter is 
preferable, as the more usual form of sucli derivatives. In either 
shape, it has the middle syllable short, and the accent on the 
first.— See the note on Fatroclus, page 125; No. 313, 



130 Versification, 

Unhappy be^ who feels the blow latest. 
Whose eyes, o'er ev'ry friend laid low, have wept; 
Dvagg'd on from partial deatii to death, lingVing, 
Till; dying, breath is all he can resign. 
324, — The Post Horse. 
Ere his exhausted spirits can return, 
Or reviving ardor barn through his frame, [ing: 
He must come forth, though sore, maim'd, and limp- 
The chaise is at the door: he hears the whip. 
The collar tiofhtens : and he feels again 
His half-heard wounds inflam'd ; the wheels again 
In his ears resound with tiresome sameness. 
O'er blinding dust, or miles of flinty ground. 
Thus rubb'd nightly, and ev'ry day injur'd, 
His piece-meal murd'rers wear away his life. 

325 
The blackbird, the thrush — all the tuneful throng, 
That wuii their melodious song cheer the groves, 
And spend their days harmless — spare, ye gunners! 
But the pndacious'^ t) rants of the air. 
Whose fierce attacks annoy the peaceful tribes-— 
Ye gunners! employ all your skill on these. 



* Predacious. — This word being trequenily mis-spelled, even 
in dictionaries, and converted into PredaCEous, I wish my 
young readers to observe, in this and numerous other cases, 
th« very material distinction between the terminations ACIous 
and JLCEous, which convey meanings as widely different as the 
terminations ING and ED annexed to our English verbs. Ad- 
jectives in ACEous (in Latin ACEUS, and either always or most 
commonly derived from substantives) signify, (f the same nature 



Versification. 131 

326 
Say, in his own proud esteem, what is man ? 
Hear him - himself ihe iheme and the poet — 
A monarch rloth'd with awe and majesty ; 

or substance as the original noun, or resembling or belonging to 
or consisting of it, as Argillaceous, Farinaceous, Sebaceous, 
Saponaceous, &c. &c. But adjectives in ACIous (in Latin, AX 
— Italian, ^CJS-— French, sometimes ^CE, s Thiace^ some- 
times ACIEUX^ whence our English ACIOUS, as Audacieux, 
Audacious) are mostly/ derived from \erbs, and signify fond of, 
or addicted to, or fit for the action of the original verb, as Lo- 
quacious, fund of talking. Rapacious, addicted to snatching or 
plundering, Tenacious, apt to hold or retain, Capacious, fit or 
able to contain, or of fit size to contain much; and so in a va- 
riety of other examples. — Agreeably to this analogy, from the 
Latin verb Prador (to prey or plunder) we form the adjective 
Fradax — In English, PredaClous — apt to pret/ or phmder — 
addicted to preying or plundering ; and, from the substantive 
Trffda (prey, plunder, booty) comes the Adjective Frcedaceus-^ 
in English, PredaCEous — belonging to prey or booty — consisting 
of prey or booty, — ^ Hence it is evident tliat birds or beasts of 
prey must be described as PredaClous, but cannot correctly be 
called PredaCEous, Indeed the word PredaCEous can hardly 
be used with propriety, except by a writer, who, little scrupu- 
lous respecting quaintness or novelty of diction, should employ 
it in some such combination as the following — 
With ravening appetite, the bird of Jove 
In haste dispatches his predaceous meal,— 
i. e. his meal consisting of prey — or (speaking of Gil Bias m 
the robbers' cavern) — 

He looks around, and, with astonish^ g^ze, 
Silent surveys the rich predaceous hoard — 
i. e. the iioard consisting of prey or plunder^ 



132 Versification, 

His will bis law, and his mind his kingdom ; 

In his mien grace, and in his eyes glory ; 

Supreme on earth, and worthy of the skies; 

Dominion in his nod, strength in his heart; 

And quite a god, thunderbohs excepted. 

So sings he, charm'd with his own form and mind; 

The theme a worm, the song magnificent. 

See the peacock, that self-applauding bird ! 
Mark what a haughty Pharisee he is. 
Meridian sun-beams tempt him to unfold 

His radiant glories, gold, green, and azure 

He seems to say, '^ Give place, ye meaner fowl : 

I am all grace, dignity, and splendor." 

The pheasant presumes not so on his charms. 

Though he has a glory in his plumes too. 

He, with modest mien, retreats, Christian-like, -n 

To the far-sequester'd green, or close copse, j- 

And, without desiring to be seen, shines. J 



S2S 



Plac'd on this bustling stage for his trial, 
From thoughtless youth to ruminating age, 
Free in his will to refuse or to choose, 

Man may abuse or improve the crisis 

Conscience from within, and heav'n from above, 
Cries in his startled ear, ^^From sin abstain." 
The w^orld around solicits his desire. 
And kindles a treach'rous fire in his soul, 
While, to guard all his purposes and steps. 
Peace follows Virtue, as her sure rewai'd; 



Fersificatiou, 155 

And Pleasure brings in her train as surely 
Vindictive pain and sorrow and remorse. 

329 
The lapse of rivers and time is the same : 
With a restless stream both speed their journey. 
The silent pace, with which they steal away. 
No wealth can bribe, no prayVs persuade to stay: 
Both, when past, alike irrevocable ; 
And at last a wide ocean swallows both. 
Though, in ev'ry part, each resemble each, 
A difference at length strikes the musing heart. 
Streams never flow in vain : where streams abound, 
How the land laughs, crov^n'd with various plenty! 
But time, that should enrich the nobler mind, 
Neglected, leaves behind a dreary waste. 

330.—- Written in a hollow Tree. 
Disposed to philosophic mental peace, 
I sit compos'd here in this hollow trunk, 
In this sequester'd cell, far from the world. 
Content to dwell, like old Diogenes; 
Inspir'd to moralise, and trace the lime 
When this oak, once tow'ring, was in its prime, 
When its verdant branches spread o'er the lawn, 
Though now^ dead from mutilation and age.,.,.. 
This relic then shall be a temple now 
To those who, like me, love Arcadian scenes ; 
Wlio with rapture hear all the warbling throng 
Hail, with grateful song, the sweet morn of spring. 



M 



134 Versification* 

Iambics of Jive feet, or ten syllables, with examples of 
synaresis. 

331 
The fragrant blossoms of the vernal field 
Yield mellifluous essence to artful bees. 

332 
He was a virtuous and brave veteran. 
Who ne'er bent the knee to foul dishonor. 

SSS 
The alue^ blooms, when o'er her towering head 

A hundred years have shed their fost'ring dews. 

— . 1 — ~ — f 

* AldCf though properly three syllables, must here be re- 
duced by synaeresis to two, and so pronounced as nearly to 
rhirae with Tall'6icy, when shortly and rapidly uttered — not with 
Tallow or FalloWy^% it is sometimes erroneously sounded. The 
word is pure Greek ; and, in that language, as likewise in the 
Latin, it is invariably a trisyllable, like Pholoe, Euno'e, Danah 
— With respect to Aloea, improperly used as the name of the 
drug, r.rc as improperly made to rhime with Fallorvs,! can 
only say (what is sufficiently known to every school-boy who 
has but learned the Latin grammar, and a couple of declensions 
in the Greek) that no such form as Aloes does or can exist in 
the Greek or Latin, e^icept in the genitive case singular, very 
correctly used by physicians in their prescriptions, as Tinct, 
Aloes, Tincture OF Aloe ; from wbich prescripiions, I presume, 
the word accidentally tnade its way into common conversation, 
5?3 a singular nouiinative; for, as to pluroly it has none in either 
Greek or Latin, as is equally well known to even the youthful 
Bovices in those languages, — Were there question, however, 
of mentioning Aloi^ plants in the plural, my young readers need 



Versification. 1 ^5 

334 
She seeks the Yale of death with hurried steps, 
And resigns her breath in wild delirium. 

335 
The morning beams, that impart life and joy. 
Shall warm my heart with their genial influence. 

336 
He then flew lightly from his lofty steed, 
And he rais'd the suppliant crew, one by one. 

. 337 
Regardless of the divine spark, they strive 
To shine in fashion's transient and dim beams. 

338 
In days of yore, thou wast the veriest slave. 
That ever tugg'd an oar, or dragg'd a chain. 

339 
Whoe'er can lead forth a patriot statesman, 
Replete with worth, fortitude, and wisdom^ «,.. 
I give this golden chain and scarf to him. 
His name shall ever live, engrav'd with mine. 

340 
While, amid the pomp of state, Damocles * 
Sate enraptured at the regal banquet. 
O'er his head he spied the sword suspended ; 
And all pleasure and joy fled at the sight. 
From the sumptuous board he started, alarm'd. 
And wish'd his humbler, safer, fare restored. 

not scruple to say Alohf pronouncing the word in three sylla- 
bles ; the last to rhime with These, 

* Damocles — the middle syllable short, and the accent on the 
Erst. — See the note on Fatr'6clus, No. 31S, page V15> 



136 Versification, 

341 
Has nature denied that force to my nerves^ 
With which my happier fellows are supplied ? 
Or does my shrinking mind^ to toil averse, 
Lazily recoil from labor's duties ? 
No! the bounteous hand of heav'n to these limbs 
Has giv'n a more than common share of force : 
Nor were their pow^'s, by pride or indolence, 
Denied to the severest claims of toil. 

342. — To Mrs. Siddons. 
Expos'd to scenes where varied pleasure glows, 
And all the lures which vice throws for beauty, 
'Tis thine to remain, 'midst danger, unhurt, 
And, though thou feel'st its influence, prove it vain* 
Thus til' asbestos defies the pow'r of fire. 
And lies un-injur'd, 'midst its violence; 
And, though destructive flames roar around it. 
Quits the fierce furnace perfect as before. 
But whence canst thou tread with un-inju/d iett 
The world's dire path, spread with burning plough- 
shares ? 
Whence can thy heart disdain temptation's powV, 
While Envy's darts in vain assail thy fame ? 
Religion's shelt'ring pinions wave o'er thee ; 
And the wreath, that Justice gave^ Virtue guards. 

Iambics of eight and six syllables alternately; the 
first line to rhime with the third — the second^ with the 
fourth. 

343 
Ah ! what is life? — Thq road to death 



Versification. 137 

Through dismay and anguish. 
With evVy breath we inhale ills, 

Along the devious way. 
344 
The sweet songsters of the grove now 

Prepare their matin hymns. 
Which, tun'd to love and gratitude, 

Declare their maker's powV. 
345 
We still rove together at eve. 

To hear the nightingale, 
Who chants sweetly the notes of love. 

So tremulously clear, 
346 
He clad too and taught the orphan, 

Relieved the widow's wants, 
Brought kind assistance to prisons. 

Where captive debtors grieved. 
347 
His drear abode is yoi> hovel. 

Which scarcely yields shelter : 
He sits beside the road all day. 

Or walk&the fields slowly. 
348 
Round me glows th' Elysian prospect. 

Overspread with vernal hues : 
My heart o'erflows v/ith ecstasy. 

As I tread these lovM scenes. 
349 
But now, planned by judgement and taste. 



I SB Versifieation, 

We find, throughout these scenes, 
The works of Art^s improving hand 

Join'd with ancient splendor. 

3 30. — The Glow-worm. 
Near the stream, or beneath the hedge^ 

A worm is known to stray, 
That shows a lucid beam by nighty 

Which by day disappears. 

351.— The Aiitiquary, 
He bore a druid's sacred form: 

A girdle bound his robes : 
In ancient lore he was deep vers'd. 

In old, profound customs. 
HeM trace old kings, by musty coins, 

And know their mien and air. 
By face be well knew king Alfred, 

Though he'd never seen George. 

Iambics of eight and six syllables alternately; the 
siX'Syllable lines to rhime — the others, not. 

352 
Could we obtain our present w^ish. 

Should we rest contented ? 
That wish might perhaps prove fatal -— 

If possessed, lamented. 
35S 
Come, ye faithful! come triumphant ! 

Repair to Bethlehem. 
Behold the king of angels born : 

With pray'r adore the Lord^ 



Versi^cation. ' 139 

Let the holy host of heav'n now 

Raise the cheerful chorus: . 
Praise to ihe Lord ia the highest: 

Let all a<;tions praise him. 

Iambics of eight syllables^ with alternate rhime ; 
i. e. the first line to rhime with the third — the second 
with thejourth. 

354 
My soul, stop thy rapid flight here. 

Nor depart from ti?e pleasmg groves, 
Where great Nature first charmed my sight. 
Where first Wisdom informal v\y heart. 
355 
In vain they search'd, to find the wretch, 

Whose breast never knew soft pity ; 
Whose heart ne'er felt a refin'd joy, 
But still drew its pleasure from guilt* 
356 
Why so soon retir'd from the world ? 

Why have you fled to solitude — 
Your heart fir'd with friendship and love, 
And poetic dreams in your head? 
357 
Now morning and gentler gales came; 
And hope cheer'd our bosoms again: 
We trimm'd our tat ter'd sails gaily ; 

And England's coast appeared at length. 
358 
On the Gallic shore soon landed^ 



140 Versification, 

And allowed to roam on parole, 
Hope once more fiird my iciithful breast 

With thooghts of peaceful home and thee. 
359 
What, though the miser's painful hand 

Should drain the rich Peruvian mines? 
Could tlit^se command one single joy. 

Or mitigate one moment's pain ? 
360 
As her rapid thoughts arise, she 

Can, in glowing phrase, express each. 
With charms, which Nature^s self supplies 

To all she says, to all she does. 
361 
The fervid source of light and heat, 

Through the western skies descending. 
Though veil'd from mortal sight awhile, 

Shall rise with golden beam again. 
362 
In dire amaze, o'er the sad scene. 

With courage not her own, she went. 
She cast her gaze on many a corpse. 

And to many a groan turn'd her ear. 
SqS 
When I first began lifers journey. 

With the load of care nnburden'd, 
I ran with giant strides, in thought. 

To scenes that Fancy painted fair. 
My wishes would fly already 

To many a great and arduous height.. 



Versificatio?i. 141 

Nought was too higb, nought too distaat. 

To tempt my fancy's daring flight. 
364. - To a sleeping Irifant. 
Seraphic boy, sleep, sleep in peace, 

Thou tender pledge of sincere love! 
Thy wretched parents' only joy. 

And their only solace here now.;...* 
Smiling innocence, sleep secure ! 

May he iv'n's sustaining arm be near, 
And aid thee to endure calmly 

The evils which liere await thee» 

Honeysuckles and new hay lend 

To the breathing vale their fragrance; 
While nameless flow'rs blend their odorS;, 

jAnd regale the smell with their sweets. 
366 
Thy moral grace, thy peerless charms. 

Far excel the pow'rs of fiction. 
Each beauty decorates thy face : 

All the virtues dwell witnin thee, 
367 
Soft regard, dear, dove-like kindness, 

And wit combined with loveliness — 
At once our reward and our bonds—* 

Shall make captives of all mankind. 
368 
Sotrie hapless wretch, a prey to grief. 

Oppressed with more than common woes^ 
Pines away the night in sorrow, 



14£ Versification. 

Unblessed by peace, uncheei-'d by hope.-.i.. 
Fair queen of night ! I call on thee : 

Hear my pray'r, O silver Cynthia ! 
Unveil to my sight thy radiance. 

And to the child of care guide me. 
369 
Madd'ning with her woe, Lucy now 

Tore her garments in frantic rage. 
She wildly view'd the sea below. 

Then plung'd headlong, no more to rise..,.. 
They pass'd along the wave-worn beach. 

Their wand'ring search was vain some time. 
At last they saw poor Lucy's corse, 

Where on the main it floated loose. 
370 
When the tempests roar loud and drear. 

When the billowy mountains rise high, 
And Against the rocky shore, lieadlong, 

The vessel flies, driv'n by the blast, ....» 
Say, does the seaman's daring mind 

Shrink from the angry frown of fate ? 
Does he, resigned to abject fear, 

Wait th' impending stroke in silence ? 
37 1. — The Negro Slave. 
With guilty hands, force, ruffian force, 

Has torn me away from my joys. 
Condemned in distant lands to toil. 

And doom'd each passing day to w^eep. 
The clanking chain, and sounding whip, 

Disturb my rest with horrid din ; 



Versification* 143 

And dire curses, from profane lips, 

Shoot through my breast sudden tenors. 

From a! I I love, far divided, 

From all (i)y heart holds dear, remov'd, 

I each dciy prove death's sharpest pangs, 
And shed the fruitless tear, each hour. 

O'er their flutt'ring bands shall gay Youth 

Preside- as chief, still attentive 
To watch thy nod, bear thv commands, 

And execute thy mighty will. 
From thy amarantiae bow'r, lo! 

At his call, their host rushes quick; 
And each opposing pow'r shall soon 

Fall beneath their conquering legions. 
Then, bound in thy silken fetters, 

Around thy throne, earth's various tribes 
To ground shall bow their heads, captive. 

And own thee their sovereign ruler. 
Ken stubborn Mars, enchain'd, subdu'd, 

Shall kneel submiss before thy shrine. 
Shall rend the wreath gain'd by valour. 

And break the deadly steel, sighing. 
He'll tear from earth his once-lov'd palm, 

Embru'd with tears and gore and gall. 
And rear, in its place, the myrtle, 

Bedew'd by thee with nectar's juice. 
His shrill clarion shall no more fire 

The warrior train with madd'ning notes, 
A tyrant's rav'ning ire to sate. 



144 Fersijication. 

And drench the plain with kindred blood. 
Amid th' embattled throng, himself 

Shall tune his lay to the soft lute, 
And prolong sweet Lydian measures, 

'Till frowning Discord hie away. 
And, lo! their louring knitted brows 

The adverse hosts unbend gradual; 
Each bosom glows; each heart relents; 

Each hails his former foe a friend. 
Join'd in Concord's flovv'ry bands, now 

They shout joyous the sacred name 
Of Brother! and, uniting hands, 

Proclaim eternal peace on earth. 

Iambics of eight syllables; the second and fourth lines 
to rhime — the first and thirds not, 

373 
Her visage was pale, her cheek wan; 

Yet her languid eye beam'd sweetly. 
Her faded form awn'd a grace still. 

Which might almost vie v/ith beauty. 
S74 
The sky was serene, the sea calm. 

And the eastern gale blew gently. 
When, seated on a rock, Anna 

View'd the Lavinia's less'ning sail. 
She thus addressed her prayer to heav'n : 

'^ Thou, who canst destroy, or canst save. 
Guard from each surrounding danger 



Versification. 145 

My little sailor boy much-lov'd/* 

Iambics of Jive fecty or ten syllables^ with alternate 
rhime; i. e. the first line to rhimewith the third — the 
second, with the fourth. 

375 
Whither, whither art thou flown, lone wand'rer? 

To what gloomy dell or sequestered bow'r? 
Say, dost thou go where sorrow is unknown? 
Dost ihou dwell where trouble never enters ? 
376 
Through the sky the ev'ning radiance gleams faint: 

The sober twilight darkens round dimly : 
The shrill bat flits by, in short quick circles; 
And along the ground the slow vapor curls. 
S77 
Quench the sacred fire, ye sons of science! 
No more awake the vocal shell for fame : 
Let sordid gain inspire your stooping souls, 
And bid the soaring dreams of Hope farewell. 
378 
Ye Muses, say, what now avail your gifts. 
The poet's fire, and the poet's feelings ? 
They but teach me to bewail keener pang5: 
They but inspire deeper lamentations. 
379 
DiflTusing gladness all around, Spring now 

Courts the western breeze with alluring smiles. 
Scatters oer the ground her gaj^est flowers, 

N 



146 Versification. 

And clothes the spreading trees in green foliage. 
380 
A friepd I had : now that friend is no more. 

His cold remains lie beneath the marble. 
I deplore his loss with bitter angni^h. 
And often heave a sigh to his mem'ry. 
381 
But, lo ! with crowded sail he comes at last! 
See, what eager figures bend o'er the cliif ! 
And hark, what mingled murmurs swell the gale ! 
He hears the welcome of a friend, in each. 
582 , 
Huge cover'd tables stood in the wide hall, 

Crown'd with rich viands, and wines high-flavour'd, 
Whatever tasteful food or sprightly juice 
Is found on the green bosom of this earth. 
383 
The rooms were hung with costly tapestry. 
Where many a gentle tale was inwoven, 
Such as the rural poets sung, of old, 
Or of Arcadian or Sicilian vale. 
384 
Ye guardian spirits, to whom man is dear. 

Shield the midnight gloom from frightful visions: 
Be near, angels of love and of fancy, 

And diffuse a bloom o'er the blank of sleep. 
385 
Man was a rugred wight, the worst of brutes: 

He piey'd on h*s own wretched kind, ruthless: 
The strongest still over-ran the weakest : 



Versification, 147 

Mighty robbers sway'd in ev'ry country, 
386 
Th^ inferior demons of the place, alarin'd, 

Rais'd around rueful shrieks and hideous yells. 
Stormy Wack clouds deform'd the welkin's face; 

And a wailing sound was heard from beneath, 
387 
How vast this wond'rous scene appear'd, how fair. 

When hope dispiay'd its opening buds at first! 
How dull and comfortless, how mean and poor, 

Has reason smce portray'd this mighty world ! 
388 
Pour thy melting notes on my fainting soul, 

Softer than spring's lone minstrel can bestow. 
While thy cadence floats through the listening air. 

The sigh shall cease, the tear forget to flow. 
389. — Retirement, 
On a faithful shore, ambition's vessel 

Rests in peace here, sweet content her anchor. 
No more is curiosity seen here 

Explor.ng eacn event with prying eye. 
390 
The iViuses rove o'er the grassy meads here. 

Or by von strea^n that strays through the valley; 
While through the grove inspiration whispers^ 

And sportive fancy plays ^mid the foliage, 
391 
Ye subhme h lis, that o'er the wild landscape 

Frown wild and drear in terrific grandeur. 
Thou crystal Tay, that roll'st in mild cadence^ 



1 48 Versification. 

I come to sooth here my childish sorrows. 

Gharmer of the anguished hour, Patience I come^ 

Skiird to beguile each desponding horror. 
Sweet but serious powV ! come, benignly mild, 
And wuth thy melancholy smile sooth me. 
393 
The rocks are hushM to rest in yonder grove, 

Within their nests, among the topmost boughs;. 
The Hght-wing'd lark has pressed his lowly bed : 
The glossy blackbird his song has forgot. 
394 
1 he tall tomb uprears its pompous head there. 

Spread o'er with praise and with high-sounding vei*se, 
As though the fulsome theme the dead could please. 
Or on etersity's vast shore sooth them. 
395 
Thoa hast^owV, sweet child of fallcy, Fiction, 
To move each various passion that we know ; 
Canst bid the brow lour with imag'd sorrows. 

Canst make the breast glow with imag'd pleasures. 

396 

How oft shall we be told, in reason's spite, 
(And told it in Britain's lib'ral air too) 

By those who hold Afric's sons in bondage, 
That they fare better than Scotia's peasants.^ 
397 

O Peace ! I resign all the world for thee; 
I fly from all the haunts of men for thee. 

O divine maid, 1 ask but this on earth, 



Versification, 149 

To wander with thee, and ta die with thee. 
398 
Where'er they go, obedient Fortune waits : 

Th' inconstant elements are kind, for them : 
The proudest streams forget to jflow, for them ; 

And the favoring wind springs up at their wish. 

I now stand alone on the world's bleak waste : 

I am left an unprotected orphan. 
The names of kmdred are unknown to me : 
I'm bereit of each endearing comfort. 
400 
Gentle villager, pause here a moment : 

Forego tlie thoughts ot earthly cares awhile: 
Drop one pitymg tear, or breathe a soft sigh. 
If for others' vvoe thy bosom e'er throbb'd. 
401 
Days of my youth ! are you flown for ever? 
Blest days of ease and innocence, adieu ! 
Are you gone, dear rustic recreations — 

Pastimes of youth, when ev'ry sport could please ? 
4:02. — May, 
No frowning moments dare intrude their gloom : 

But from ev'ry spray melod\^ is heard. 
The fleecy wand'rers crop their plenteous food^ 
Or sport away the sunny hours gaily. 
403 
Affection's glance can pierce the dreary gloom. 

That curtains round the unknown land with clouds. 
She wails and sobs o'er thy tomb in anguish \ 

^ H 3 



150 Vemfication. 

Alas! her moan unheard, her tears unseen, 
404 
Let busy Scandal, with tongne malignant, 

Kepeat thy piteous tale with savage joy : 
Wrung by thy sorrows, the feeling soul shall 

Bevyail thy fate in sympathetic strains. 
405 
Anxious for his country's weal, some statesman 

Perhaps scans the fate of mighty empires. 
His labVing mind can feel no soft repose. 

While he weighs th' important plans in his breast. 
406 
i strike thy trembling strings once more, my lyre; 

But I raise not again thy notes to joy. 
Grief flings her hand o^er the chords, distressful, 

And oft delays the song, faintly pausing. 
407 
I beheld a youthful stripling with him : 

His mien w^as modest, and his gait careless ; 
And he held a half-strung lyre in his hand, 

Which he oft struck, between each idle pause. 
408 
If e*er you chose, sweet pensive jessamine, 

To deck an humble spot to fame unknown ; 
And thou, fair virgin rose, of modest blush. 

If kindred worth and charms claim thy notice; 
Oh ! round yon tomb interweave your branches. 

And embalm the air with untted sweets : 
For beauty's bloom, and truth, and innocence— 
, All that the poet lov'd — is there buried. 



Versification. 151 

409 
Sterne ! thy poetic pow'rs are dear to all : 

We sit and moan near sick Le Fevre's couch ; 
And, wrung with anguish, drop the piteous tear 

For poor Maria, wild, wand'ring, alone. 
Nor less thy poignant wit and mirth delights: 

The angled fence, the martial howling-green, 
Old Shandy's argument^, are fit emblems 

Of ruling passions mastVing common sense. 
410. — Indolence. 
He wish'd sometimes to shake off his stupor, 

And break the charm which bound his senses tbus^ 
Awake to deeds of nobje enterprise. 

And join the busy crowd which buzz'd around. 
But still he ever found some vain excuse. 

And said, ^^ It will do as well to morrow/* 
It came, and fled : — the same unvaried round 

He passed, nor could repel its numbing powVs. 
411 
That breast, the seat of refin'd sentiment. 

Those povvVs, that could explore ev'ry science, 
Are now consign'd to Death's unfathom'd gulf- 
Alas ! no more to charm th' admiring world. 
What avails now that divine eloquence, 

That on the dubious mind stamp'd conviction? 
The savage and sage must resign their life : 

Time leaves behind no wreck of human pow'r. 
412 
What, if the smiles of Fortune play round me. 

Or if through the land my name be echo'df 



152 Versification. 

What, if a servile train obey my voice, 

Or honors, or length of days, stand round me f 
Can these impart one ray of bliss to mind, 

Or spread o'er the breast the glow of virtue^ 
From a love-sick liearr. remove the anguish, 

Lull our fears to rest, or disperse our doubts? 

There, too, vvas he, who siemm'd nobly the tide 

Of corruption foul, vvi^h breast undaunted; 
Who liv'd for his country, and would have died. 
Could he, dying, have seen his country blest. 
He pitied its woes, and redress'd its wrongs 5 ^ 

Devoted each successive day to it : 
But the iron arm of pow'r oppressed him. 
Strewing o'er his way the thorns of sorrow. 
414 
Long-lost Peace, hail ! divine dove-ey'd maid, hail ! 

See a suppliant vot'ry hei^^^nt thy feet; 
Oh! with an eye benign deign to view him : 
So d}ing Hope shall find a friend in th^e. 
Ah ! turn not away thy angelic face ! 

If thou'lt be mine. Til quit this vale no more> 
But sit all the live-long day beside thee. 

And list to thy rural tale in silence 

There may we live, unseen and unsought for. 

By Fortune's train, rude, cold, and fantastic ; 
Nor let the sons of Comus mark the green. 

Nor lounging trifiers intrude on our hours.. ».,» 
If to our sylvan shed aught be welcome, 
Be it the traveler who has lost his way, 



Versification. 153 

Who knows not where to rest his anxious liead. 
Who knows not where to lav his weary limbs. 

The second and fourth lines to rhime — the others, not, 

415 
To chase the clouds of gloom, and sooth my grief, 

The beauties of the painted vale I sought. 
I often water'd the flow'rs with my tears, 

And loaded the passing gale with my sighs. 
4l6.— J dj/ing Father, to his Children. 
Pious offspring ! go, and restrain those tears. 

To regions of eternal bliss I fly : 
Heav'n hears my dying prayers in your favor : 

Take, in this clay-cold kiss, my last blessing. 

Iambics of eight syllables; each paragraph to make 
two verses^ with rhime. 
417 
Blest spirit! forgive the mournful rites we keep,— 
We weep for ourselves. 
418 
How soothing sweet nature's music to the troubled 
mind ! how refia^d ! 
419 
A swain, unvex'd with all the cares of gain, iiv'd 
remote from cities* 
420 
I never overbear in conversation, with important air. 

421 
IS or would I invade my neighbour's right by stealth, 
with felonious slight. 



154 Versification* 

422 
Frail man is ever prone to err : but gen'rous 
minds will own their faults. 
423 
Sweet to rove the tangled thickets of the grove at this 
twilight hour. 

424 
To enrich her cells^ the bee sucks honey from 
cowslips' golden bells. 
425 
The drooping Muse, now dropp'd for news and poli- 
tics, lay neglected. 
426 
And the hands, that plough the soil, shall guard 
well the produce of their toil. 
427 
Then let us kneel here on your hallow'd threshold, 
while we seal our vows. 
4^^8 
The earth keeps her richest, proudest treasures within 
her cavern'd deeps. 
429 
Benumbing frosts, which chilFd fair nature's genial 
fire, retiie at length, 
430 
Atrides ! my Muse, with daring wing, would fain 
sing thy glorious deeds. 
431 
But the melting notes soon again begin to flow In 
slow murmurs. 



Versification. ^ 155 

432 
The fav'ring Muse had stor'd his mild bosom with 
all her ample views 

The surg^^s force their way o'er the labor'd mole, 
with resistless sv/ay. 
434 
In the vale below, sparkling 'midst heaps of drifted 
snow, I've found thee. 
435 
The sun has now nearly run his headlong course in 
the kindling west. 

436 
Old Simon, removVl to the manor-house^ now proved 
ev*ry comfort. 

437 
Oh! haste! restore the blessings of sweet peace to 
this once-favor'd shore. 
438 
The Muses stray, far, far from Grandeur's noisy way, 
to vales and groves. 
439 
Hence, the ant is found to tread the ground with 
anxious steps, ev'ry day* 

440 ' . 

Thus died the wicked, wanton sparrow, in her pride 
and cruelty. 

441 
The hoary swain strove^ with cautious steps, to gain 
the river's margin. 



J 56 Fersificaihn, 

442 
With anxious bleat, the playful Iamb pursues his 
dam, and seeks the teat. 
443 
Contentment, and sincere piet}^ and truth, lov'd to 
shelter here. 

444 
The river- god, beguil'd by music's trilling notes, 
sat up, and smil'd. 

445 
But see how regular the motion of the heav'nly 
spheres appears. "*" 

446 
A clown took his way across the forest before the 
break of day. 

447 
Lo ! a mother, a friend, a wife sleeps, where weeps 
this silent marble. 

448 
The sufFVer, no more oppress'd with earthly cares, 
soon sinks to rest there. 
449 
Haply, some angel whispered low in his ear, that his 
hour was near, 

450 
Why should hcj whose life is pass'd with fair renown, 
fear the tyrant's frown ? 
451 
Her lovely face, her faultless form, add new grace to 
the diadem ; 



Vemjication. 157 

and Darius, subject to a woman's laws, sees, and 

smiles applause. 

452. — Memory. 
She flies far from the busy world, to taste that peace 

the world denies. 
From youth to age, she sits entraac'd, reviewing life's 

eventful page, 
and noting the little lines of yesterday, as they fade 

away. 
AiS."To Dr. Thornton, on his beautiful represeru* 

tation of the Agave, or American Aloe*. 
Agave, nurs'd by a length of rolling years, rears her 

stately form, 
with wise delay, still protracting the beauty followed 

by decay ; 
till, urg'd by time's resistless date, she braves ap- 
proaching fate nobly, 
and, conscious of impending doom, bursts forth into 

bloom, impatient ; 
while the golden gems profusely shoot, rich, from all 

their curving stems ; 
then the vegetable martyr, fading 'midst admiring 

eyes, dies. 
But, at thy command thus flowering, her fiiiish'd form 

shall stand unchanged, 
and, through ages yet to come, shall smile, glorying 

in perennial bloom. 



* See the not^ on Aloe, No. 333, page 134. 
o 



158 * Versification. 

Imnbics of ten syllables; each paragraph to make two 
verses, with rhime. 

454 
The Thracian herdsman so stands full in the gap 
with his spear, and hopes the hunted bear. 
455 
And a temple, sacred to the queen of love, was 
rais'd above, o'er its eastern gate. 
456 
The form of Mars, all sheath 'd in arms, stood high 
on a chariot; and the god look'd gruffly. 
457 
The huntress Cynthia pursues the deer, with her 
nymphs around: the woods resound with horns. 
458 
Then she preferred her chaste request thus lowly, 
kneeling with her hands across her breast. 
459 
The war, and stern debate, and immortal strife, 
shall then be the business of my life. 
460 
They were scarce seated, when a promiscuous rude 
crowd at once rush'd in with loud clamors. 
461 
But, whither his soul went, let those, who search 
the secrets of the future state, relate. 
462 
But, alas ! why do mortal men in vain complain of 
f ro\ laeuce, Fate, or Fortune ? 



Vcrsijicatmi. 159 

463 
He snor'd secure till morn, his senses bound in slum- 
ber, and drown'd in long oblivion. 
464 
In days of old, there liv'd a valiant prince, of mighty 
fame; and his name was Thesem^, 
465 
Indulgent Heav'n vouchsafes the sweet vicissitudes 
of night and day, for our delight. 
466 
O thou, walh whom, from reason's dawn, my heart 
was wont to share each care and each pleasure ! 
467 
Oh ! from our fate and our example learn, ere too 
late, learn repentance and wisdom. 
468 
Thus, always teas'd, always teasing others, to be dis- 
pleas'd is his oniy pleasure. 
469 
The rhetVic they display, like quicksilver, shines, as 
it runs, but, grasp'd ai,>lip» av\ay. 
470 
To catch from the stghi new rapture, anuels had 
stopp'd, wtiea xMercv's mai.date ^^iiig'd their hi^ht/ 
471 
We pay the tributary tear at learning's tomb, with 
sincere grief and due rev'rence. 
47 £ 
How much of learning, how much of knowledge, 

* Theseus^ cwc syllables. —= See the note on Orpheus^ No. 547, 
page 112. 



l60 Versification, 

bade the world farewell, when Horatio fell ! 
473 
The careful housewives make an ample cake for me 
at home, rich with almonds and plums. 
474 
Pride of the land ! you largely share whatever of fair 
or good celestial bounty gives, 
475 
The fool, who presumes to utter one opposing word 
Against his sovereign lord, is rash. 
476 
Scotia's queen now rose on her couch, and gaz'd away 
her soul, as the day faintly dawned. 
477 
Ever workfng on a social plan, God attaches man to 
man by various ties. 
478 
Yet depend not much upon your golden dream, al- 
though it seem feasible and fair. 
479 
The sage, who late diffused the blessings of Britan- 
nia's reign o'er India's wide domain. 
480 
There was a time, when the light wak'd me at morn 
cheerfully, and, at night, peace was mine. 
481 
Ill-fated Greece saw both her taste and her genius 
expire beneath a victor's ire. 
482 
Lo ! lame Tyrt^xts wakes slumb'ring Spartans half- 
extingui^h'd i&re with his martial lyre. 



Vtrsijicatioru l6l 

483 
No tongue can express, no pen describe, and no 
thought figure poor Orra's dire distress. 
484 
We thank the hand, that points the wholesome lancet 
to some morbid part, with gentle art. 
485 
Theodosius, a youth endu'd with worth of early 
growth, woo'd this beauteous virgin. 
486 
Darius, tir'd with the toilsome pleasures of the day, 
now lay reclined on his couch. 
487 
£^en now, e'en now, pale Despair weeps, and writh- 
ing Anguish roiirsj on yonder western shores. 
E'en now fierce SlavVy stalks in Afiic's groves with 
hideous yell, and slips the.dogs of helL 
488 
The prophet spate well, " Let the desert sing: the 

spiry fir shall spring where the thorn sprang; 
and the luxuriant yew and myrtle shall grow, where 
grew rank and unsightly thistles." 
489 
But these fond dreams of happiness ate not confesa'd, 

'till time has calm'd the ruffled breast. 
Heav'a's sweet smile is not reflected on the wave, 'till 
the rushing winds forget to rave. 
490 
Ye careless and supine, from a voice like mine, ta^re 
counsel and caution^ if you caj^ 
o SUIL^ 



l69 Versification. 

I would teach truths, which the theorist could never 

reach, and observation taught me, 
491 
Just Heav'n approves the work of generous love and 

filial fear, as sincere and honest : 
but the omniscient judge scorns, with averted eyes^ 

the slavish drudge, and the base hireling, 
490^.— To Death. 
Ah! why dost thou thus, capricious, still turu aside,, 

with tyrant pride, from the wretched ? 
and why love to stray, an un-invited guest, where 

thy presence strikes with wild dismay ? 
493- — The Planet Mercury. 
Swift Merc'ry, scorched as he moves arourid the solaF 

blaze, first displays his vivid orb. 
494 
Surrendered^ evVy hour, to the ruling powV of some 

tmgovern'd passion, the heart 
finds the truths that once bore sway, and all theif 

deep impression, wear away by degrees. 
So coin, pass'd current in traffic, grows smooth, 'till 

at last Caesar's image is effac'd. 
495 
I saw thee, thwarted by storms of elemental strife,. 

cross the troubled sea of life. 
I saw thy skiff, on the raging niain, maintain unequal 

fight with fearful tempests. 
I saw the whirlwind's breath heave up the mighty 

billows of the deep, with dreadful sweep. 



Versification, l63 

496 
The Gipsey's faggot blaz'd, at evening, down by yon 

hazel copse, — There we stood^ and gaz'd — 
gaz'd, with silent awe, on her sun-burn'd face, her 

hood of straw, and. her tatter'd mantle 

As she drew the silver piece o'er my palm, and, with 

searching view, trac'd the line of life, 
how my flutt'ring pulse throbb'd with fears and hopes, 

to learn the color of my future years ! 
497 
Amid the wreck of time, so Tully paus'd, to trace the 

sublime truth on the rude stone, 
when th' immortal sage of Syracuse, disclos'd in ho* 

nor*d dust, reposM at his feet. 

Iambics of eight and six syllables alternately ; each 
paragraph to make a line of eight j and one of six-^^ 
the first rhiming with the third — the second with the. 
fourth. 

49S 
Her plaintive strains play'd in mournful accents oa 

Echo's ^ar ; 
and the warbling notes sweetly decayed on the di* 

stant plains. 

499 

Though my fortune has denied show, pomp, and daz- 
zling splendor, 

yet content has^ well supplied nxore tlian grandeur 
can bestow. 



364 Versificatkn. 

500 
Lo ! impetuous torrents dash down the mountaiD's 
rugged side, 

and the tide, with horrid crash/ bears down mingled 

rocks and trees, 

501 
Ye verdant groves, adieu! ye plains, where nature 

smiles, adieu ! 
The view no more proves my solace, no more be- 
guiles my thought. 

502. — Epitaph on a Child. 
With friendly care. Death came, ere sorra-w could 

fade or sin blight, 
conveyed the op'ning bud to heav'n^ and there bade 

it blossom. 

503 
Alas ! the little victims^ regardless of their doom, 

play. 
They have no care bejond to-day, no sense of ills 

to come. 

504. — Migratory Birds. 
On v^eary wing, from remote climes, a helpless train 

arrive, 
"vv'hieh in vain seek food and rest, low circling in 

airy ring. 

505 
The sons that Britain leads to combat on the main, 

are firm, 
and firm her hardy race that treads the plain in steady 

march. 



Venijication. l65 

506 
The peaceful eve spread her twilight mantle, with 

serene smile ; 
and Cynthia shed her argent lustre o'et the dewy 

green* 

507 
Fair fountain ! may tufted trees arise on thy green 

margin, 
and spreading boughs screen from summer's fervid 

skies thy bosom ! 

508 
Ah me I what charms the prospect wears to youth's 

untutor'd eye! 
The op'ning world appears bright as the portals of 

the sky. 

509 
Old chieftains, who knew no refinement, dwelt here 

in rude state. 
The wants their bosoms felt, were small, and few their 

enjoyments. 

510 
Sure, sacred friendship shall glow, not confin'd to 

life's shart span. 
The ardent mind shall know its best delights beyond 

the grave. 

511 
The panting herds repose ; the toiling hand of Care 

is still : 
the busy murmur of insects glows through the peo-» 

pled air. 



iGG Versification* 

512 

The swallows compose their useless wing in their 
torpid state ; 

and bees wait the call of early spring as idly ia 
hives. 

513 

I ask not, ye great^ your repose, laid on swelling 
velvet, 

while the oak-leaves close their venerable shade o'er 
my head. 

514 

If we saw each inward grief written on man's out- 
ward brow, 

how many would then draw our pitj^, whom we 
now envy ! 

515 

In black attire the church was decked, the saipts ar- 
ray 'd \{\ black, '-■ 

and a bloody corpse w^as laid in the middle of the 
choir..... 

and he found the altar stained with bloody as became 
nearer; 

and there stream'd a crimson flood on the steps, and 

all around • 

516 

O'er the vale I wander'd, while balmy Zephyrs blew 

gently. 
The blue vi'iet and white lily gave fragrance to the 

gale. 
The feather'd tribes haiFd Sol's refulgent beam with 

tuneful sonof : 



Versification^ l67 

the finny race sail'd down the stream swiftly, in 
sportive throng. 

In thefo/lowins; stanzas, of the same measure as the 
preceding^ the rhime is confined to the second and fourth 
lines. 

517 
And they haiFd the bridal day with joy, when it 

came at length ; 
and they went their willing way onward to the house 
of God. 

518 
The day's last splendors shine bright on the moun* 

tain's heathy slope, 
and gaily gleain o'er the Rhine, rich with many a 
radiant hue. 

519 
Your strong compassion glows, where Misery spreads 

her deepest shade : 
the balm, that softens human woes, distils from your 
blest lips. 

520 
While the thoughtless many glide down the summer 

stream of vice, 
you stem the rushing tide, and steer your steady bark 
upward. 

5£1 
Never durst the fisher cast his net in the lake be- 
low ; 



^68 Versificatio7i. 

nor would ever swallow wet her passing wing in its 

waves. 

522 
From beneath, th' unfathom'd lake sudden sent forth 

strange music; 

and the solemn sounds of death saiFd slowly o'er the 
waters. 

523 

Yet the wislies I disclose, arise not from discon- 
tent: 

my heart overflows with gratitude for blessings I 
enjoy, 

524. — The double-blossomed Cherry-tree. 

How this tree shone lately, array M in beauty's fairest 
vest ! 

I fondly said, '' Thou shalt henceforward be my 
garden's pride :" 

But now not a vestige of my late fav'rite tree re- 
mains. 

I see its snowy blossoms in scattered heaps all 
around 

1 stand rebuk'd, who could turn my eyes thus from 
real worth, 

and prefer to that worth a flow'r, which only 
blooms and dies^. 

• The double-blossomed cherry-tree produces no fruit. 



Versification • 1 69 

Iambics of eight syllables^ with alternate rhime — 
i.e» the Jirst line rhiming with the third — the second, 
with the fourth. 

525 
Thou object of my mournful tear! when last we met, 

thy smiles were glad. 
But thy sua is now set in shades, no more to cheer 

mine eyes with smiles, 
50,6 
In our youthful days^ how gaily on the vernal plain 

we gamboFd;, 
where the pure streamlet strays swiftly to the main, 

through woodlands and vales ! 
527 
Each sabbath morn, duly is seen, wiih herbs and 

flowVs, a weeping troop 
of virgins and youths, to adorn, within the sacred 

green, thy grave. 

52B 
To the subjugated mind fell Despotism shows his 

giant form, 
as die meteor of the storm, the horror, the dread of 

mankind, glares. 

5£9 
While, with bare bosom, Jessy rov'd, the baist'reus 

blast of heav'n roar'd loud : 
the fleecy snow was driv'n in heaps: the black'ning 

tempest fill'd the air. 



170 Versification. 

530 
Sorrow^s child ! tranquil and serene be thy rest ! be 

thy slumbers soft ! 
Thy smiles have oft beguil'd my tears, and sooth'd 

my agitated breast. 
531 
Oh ! see yon chief go to battle. Ashe flies, the stroke 

arrests him. 
He falls; and the husband and the father dies, in 

that fatal blow. 

5S2 
Too full to speak, Laura's fond heart sigh'd a soft 

adieu to Arthur. 
As Arthur withdrew mournfully, down her cheek 

stole love's gentle tear. 
533 
Now released from the cares of worldly bus'ness, 

impatient Arthur 
repairs with ardor to the spot where all his cares 

ceas'd in rapture. 

534 
The moon, with pallid beam, shot temporary light 

through louring clouds, 
on the rippled s^treain now glitt'ring, now fading from 

the sight slowly. 

535 
What mourn ful voice sounds sad along the winding 

vale with plaintive sighs? 
What piercmg shrieks of anguish rise, and float 

upon the passing gale ? 



Versification^ 171 

536 
Each fragrant flow'r, that drinks the dew, shall spring 

around my ivied porch ; 
and Lucy, in russet gown and blue apron^ shall sing 

at her wheel. 

537 
Contending hosts drop the brandish'd blade frooi 

their grasp, in mute surprise, 
forget th^ affray^ and turn on th' angelic maid their 

eyes, transported. 

538 
At opening day, the thrush, high on the thorn, be- 
gins his sprightly song ; 
arid the blackbird tunes his varied lay,, where the 

streamlet winds along. 

539. — To Fikndship^ 
Men call thee vain, changing, sordid, scarce known, 

and rare to see, on earth ; 
and on thee thej^ lay the heavy blame, when they 

feel base treach'rj^'s pain. 
540 
As late I stray'd along the flow'ry side of Derwenl's 

murm'jing stream, 
in the >uniiy glade I spied a rosy sweet-briar bush 

full blooming. 
its blossoms, as they spread o'er the glassy wave, 

glow'd with crimson die ; 
and their delicate perfume was shed on the gate that 

sportedby. 



172 Versificatiotu 

To the spot returning this day^ to view the bush so 

richly blown, 
I mark'd its lot with tearful eye; for its crimson bloom 

was all gone. 

541. — To the Nightingale. 
Why, tell me why thy troubled heart sighs for ever, 

plaintive warbler ? 
Cannot that glowing sky, these groves, impart to 

thy woes a solace ? 
See, Nature renews her rdbe of gayest green, at thy 

wish'd return : 
and, when Nature wakes the rural scene, can thy 

wayward bosom mourn ? 
In dews Aurora steeps the new-born fiowVets ofrthe 

dale, for thee ; 
On the western gale she strews her fragrance with 

lib'ral band, for thee. 
542 
(^c^lle Sleep, come! steal softly upon my senses 

whli drowsy charms: 
In thy downy arms infold me, and set thy seal on 

my eye-lids. 

543 
Fancy ! come, weave for thy vot'ry the dreams that 

own thy soft control. 
Lift thy wand high : my willing soul shall bless and 

believe thy fictions. 
I long have known the louring sky; the with'ring 

blast,*the cheerless path. 
Fancy! come, aid me: we'll descry a world of our 

own, far happier. 



Versification. 173 

There fine forms alone, with soften'd mien and gentle 

voice^ shall visit: 
nor cold Distrust, nor Selfishness, nor severe Pride, 

shall be seen there. 
And Hope shall light up our skies and our landscapes 

with her gay sunshine ; 
and Sensibility, with dewy eyes and swelling heart, 

stray there. 
The sentient plant, whose feeling frame turns aw^ay 

from the stranger's touch, 
exists bin in the soften'd beam, which art can con- 
vey around it. 
Distress'd by evVy passing gale, by coarser stems 

that rise near it, 
oppress'd by ev'ry rude impulse — expose it, and it 

dies, like iT:e. 

In tlie following stanzas^ of the same measure as the 
precedingy the rhime is coi/ined to the second and fourth 
lines. 

544 
Thus pl'opi lions Nature grac'd my natal hour, with 

indulgent care, 
and gave the flow'r, the sansulne, and the gale, with 

superior sweetness, 
545 
He wTut, and he spake sweet "mercy's mild accents, 

witii a parent's voice- 
His love retnrii'd, he long'd to strain his sorrowing 

child within his arms. 



174 Versijicaiion, 

Iambics often syllables, tcith alternate rhime, 

546 
Mark how the frequent gale delights to play around 

the grave of her I still adore^ 
forsakes the rosy how'r and spicy grove, to wave the 
grass that clothes this hallow'd clay. 
547 
Immortal Liberty, the heav'nly guardian of the Bri- 
tish isles, stood triumphant, 
and, with fav'ring sufriles, view'd her gallant sons, 
undaunted heroes of the flood or field. 
548 
Farewell, fleeting, false hopes, and vain desires ! 

Anxious, fond wishes, that within my breast 
dwell with un-availing anguish and sighs, leave me^ 
oh ! to my wonted rest leave me. 
549 
Alas ! 1 myself must never know the consolation I 

would grant to others ; 
but, if I want the means, the pow'r to bless, I can 
commiserate, though not bestow. 
550 
When the orient sun expands his roseate ray o'er the 

sky, the rising morn is fair ; 
aad the meek radiance of departing day fades lovely 
to the bard's enraptur'd eye. 
551 
The flow'r, though so sweet once, so lovely to the 
eye, thus fades, nipp'd by the frozen gale : 



Venijication. 175 

when bolst'rous storms assail, the tall oaks, torn 
from the earth, thus lie a mighty ruin. 
552 

The shipwreck'd stranger's weary bones should he 
far, far beyond the haled billow's reach : 

but blest the hands, ihat, with pious care, supply 
this hasty grave on the wave-worn beach. 

Oh ! could I hide the pencil'd story of my early 

years from Mem'ry's steadfast eye ! 
She heaves the lingering sigh o'er the sad view, and 

dreps her fruitless tears at evVy glance. 
554 
The lucid orb of day now gilds the verdant beauties 

of the lawn with mellow tints : 
his slowly-setting ray smiles unclouded — sure pre- 
sage of a mild dawn succeeding. 
5bi> 
Heav'n saw her meek submission to her maker's 'will, 

and w^itb pitying eyes view'd the maid, 
and, from ev'ry future ill, caught her pure soul to 

the blissful mansions of the skies. 
boQ 
Pomp shall no more display her charms for him, nor 

ceremony with a smile greet him. 
Servile swarms of sycophants, veil'd in flati'ry, shall 

no more attend him, to beguile. 



176 Versification. 

Iambics often syllables ; the first line to rhime with the 
fourth — the second, zmih the third. 

557 
From thy bright abode, O Mercy ! descend ; and bid 

Ambition's direful contests cease. 
Oh ! haste! and bring sweet smiling Peace with ihee, 
and all the blessings bestow'd by her hand. 
558 
Ah! I thought once, this bosom, that had throbb'd 

so much with varied pangs, was steel'd at length 
by sullen apathy, nor would more yield to sensibi- 
lity's impressive touch. 
569 
The shepherd, rous'd from his dream, hears a sound 

of rustling plumes, that seek a distant clime ; 
and their clamors strike his ears at intervals, as he 
marks them steer their sublime coarse. 
560 
Ida not dread the vivid lightning, glancing, with- 

awe-inspiring glare, o'er the plain ; 
not all the horrors, now spiead around me, give one 
moment's pain to my aching breast, 
56 \. —To the OicL 
Melancholy, cheerless bird ! I woo thee. Thy fa* 

nereal cry is soothing to me. 
Build thy lonely nest iiere ; and be thy sullen wail- 
ings ever heard nigh my dvvclling. 



Versificatiotu 177 

Iambics of eight syllahhs. — Epithets ^ are to be 
added to the substantives which are printed in Jlaliajj 
and each line to make one verse^ 

062 
Through yon groDe of mournful yew3> 
I muse with solitary steps. 

of)S 
The sJandVing thief h worse 
Than the ro^ue who steals your pr.rse* 

064 
One ni^ht, when slumbers shed 
Their popp/^o o'er my head. 

565 
Does not the ox bow 
His neck, to draw the plough ? 

oQQ 
Now Cambria's ^ wilds appear^ 
Her drear valleys, aYid rude mountains^ 

* Although the word, Epithet, in its orijiinnl si2;nincation, 
simply means an adjectrce, it is, in treafmg of patetr)^, exclu- 
sively employed to designate an ornamental adjective — orna- 
rnentai to the poetry, I mean, whether ornamenral n- dispara- 
ging to the subject to which it is applied — as bounteous nature, 
the fostering sun, the sor£/*(i miser, ihd no riousvi oew — Where 
an adjective is not used for poetic ornament, hut is necessary to 
complete the sense, it is not, in tliis point of view, considered 
as an epithet: ex. gr. An old gentleman of h^.gh rank met a 
young man of low degree. 

t Cambria is the Latin name for Wales, 



1 



17B Versificatidn. 

567 
In ev'ry shade, fancy now dreads 
The midnight robber's blade. 

568 
Keleas'd from Winter's armSj 
Spring unfolds now her early charms. 

569 
Is there no pow'r in nature 
To sooth affliction's lonely hour, 
Ta blunt the edge of disease, 
And teach these wint'ry shades to please? 
r 570 

VVhen, sunk in despair by guilt, 
liepentr.nce breathes her prayr, 
Thy voice cheers the suppliant ; 
And mercy cahns hex fears, 

571 
4.S he who travels Libya's plains, 
Where \he Ivm rrigns lavvless^ 
Is sels'd with fear and dkmay. 
When the/be obstructs his way...... 

572 
Methought I spy'd a spacious road, 
(An J trees adorn'd its side) 
Frequented by a crowd 
Oi mortals, loud and vain. 

573 
Before us lay a heathy 
And clouds obscur'd the day ; 
In spires rose the darkness ; 
The lightnings flash'd their y^r^-^ 



Fersijication. 179 

574 

O wlsdoai ! if thy control 

Can sooth the sickness of the soul. 

Can bid the passiom * ease. 

And bieailie the calm of peace, 

Wisdom ! I bless thy sway, 

And will ever^ ever obey. 

675 
Whene'er we meet, the hours flow soft, 
And virtue is our treat. 
Our breasts know no envy; 
And hence we fear no foe. 
Ambition ne'er attends our walks ; 
And hence we ask no friends. 

Teu'syllable Iambics. — Epithets to be added to the 

ZiDords printed in Italic. 
576 
Wliat offence springs from ani'rous causes ; 

What contests rise from trivial things..,, 

577 
Goddess, say, what motive could impel 
A lord t'assault a gentle belle ? 

578. — The Hunted Stag. 
He flies so fast, tluit his eye 
Has lost the chaser^^ atjd his ear the cry. 

579 
By my sire, I claim superior lineage, 
Who warm'd the clod wtih heav'nly fire. 

580. — The Mariner. 
With day his labors cease not ; 
But perils and toils mark his nightly way. 



180 Versification. 

581 
Mem'rj?^ wakes n^.e now to the review 
Of jovs, that, like tl)e morning dew^ faded. 

582 
As the grave Muse awakes the strings^ 
In airy rings the Graces dance round you. 

583 
The years lag slow, wcrn in anguish; 
And these conqurors mock their captives' woe. 

584 
A happy offspring bless'd his board: 
Fruitful were his fields^ and well stor'd his barns. 

585 
There his horses^ warm with toil, browse 
Their canopy of pendent boughs. 

586 
When hell's agent found him so stagg'ring^ 
While virtue scarce maintain'd her ground.... 

587 
Not that I contemn your father's mildness ; 
^ui force becomes the diadem. 

588 
Nor happier they, where sandy wastes e.Ntend, 
Where Arabs tend their parch'd cattle; 

589 
And Fame's trumpet shall tell to the world, 
Nelson fell in Vict'ry's arms. 

590 
The hand of Time may heal perchance 
The guilty pangs, the remorse I feel. 



Versification. 181 

591 

To this shore we bid thee welcome, 

Where adverse winds no more shall thwart thy cours(^. 

o92 
'Twas night. The chiefs lie beside their vessel, 
Till morn had purpled o'er the sky ; 
Then launch,, and hoist the mast : gaksy 
By Phoebus supplied^ fill the sails. 

593 
The quarrels of the mortal state 
Are far unworthy of your debate, Gods! 
Let men employ their days in strife^ 
We * in constant joy andpe«(>(?. 

594 
The woodbine, faintly streak'd with red, blows here. 
And rests its head on ev'ry bough : 
Its bra?iches meet round the young ash, 
Or crown the hawthorn with its odors, 

595 
The prophet spoke ; and, with <i frozen, 
From his throne the monarch started : 

* My young readers will observe, that this passage, though 
from the pen of Mr. Pope, is not grammatically correct; for, 
on supplying the ellipsis, they will find, ^* let toe employ our 
days f which is a solecism. It should have been us : but, as 
tts, standing singly in this place, would have been harsh and 
aukward, he ought to have either repeated the verb Let, with an 
infinitive after us, or adopted the other form of the imperative, 
in some such manner as the following — 

Pass toQ our j^ears in constant peace and joy. 



132 Versification. 

Choler fiird his breast, that boil'd with ire ; 

And the Jire flashed from his eje-balls. 

The prey, in each conquest; is thine; 

Though the danger and sweat of the day [be*] miae. 

1 bear to my ships some trivial present ; 

Or praises pay the wounds of war. 

597 
Let not Britannia's sons deem ignoble 
The task that guides the team or sows the corn^ 
That watches o'er the grain, anxious, 
And clothes the plain with crops. 

598 
3Sow has Autumn assum'd her reign, 
And the mists remain upon the hills : 
The whirlwind roars o'er the heath; 
The torrent pours through rocky vales. 

599. — The lost Child. 
The mother flies through evVy grove, 
Tries each glade, each path-zimi/, 
'Till the light leaves disclose the hoy, 
Long stretch'd in repose on the wood-moss. 

They pressM the ground, laid close by each other ; 
Their bosoms pierc'd with many a wound. 
Nor were they well alive, nor wholly dead : 
But some signs of life appear. 

* The word between crotchets is to be omitted. 



Vtrsification. 183 

601 

Should sleep surprise, on Missisippi^s bank, 

l^hcptasant^ in ambush close lies 

The alligator J gorg'd with blood: 

Beneath ihejlood he lurks conceal'd, 

Or ranges around the shore, fierce, 

Climbs the bank,and crouches on the ground. 

6oa 
Beneath the hawthorn shade I oft have seen 
A rustic maid reclin'd on the turf, 
With anxious eye watching her lambs 
Sporting round their dams in circles; 
Have heard her, o'ercome with heat, hail 
The freshness of the rising gale. 

603. — Rooks and Crows, 
The flock goes increasing from field to field, 
Most formidable foes to level crops* 
The plunderers well know their danger. 
And, on some bough^ place a watch. 
Yet oft, by surprise, the gunner. 
As they rise, will scatter death among them. 

604 
May the spirits of the dead descend oft^ 
To watch the slumbers of a friend ; 
Round his ev'ning walk, unseen, to hover^ 
And, on the green, hold converse ; 
To hail the spot where first grew their friendship^ 
And nature and heav'n open'd to their view. 

606 
O'er dale and hill, Night extends her wings, 



184 Versification, 

And spreads ^veil on shadowj earth ; 

The pictured forms of nature fade. 

And sink in shade, melting. 

The dews descend, unheard : the show 'rs, unseen, 

Cool the earthy revive thej^ote^Vs.,., 

The laborers bless their home now. 
When midnight and the tempest come. 
The farmer wakes, and, with dread, sees 
The shafts of heav'n gleam round his head. 
The cloud roars re-iterated. 
Shakes his roof, and jars his doors. 

607 
O'er the village green steal twilight's detps, 
To harmonise the scene with magic tints. 
The hum is stiil, that broke through the bamlet, 
When, round the ruins of their oak, 
To hear the minstrel play, the peasants flock'd, 
And carols and games clos'd the da]/. 

608. —To Memory* 
His evening ray when Joy's siin has shed, 
And Hope's meteors cease to play ; 
When clouds on clouds close the prospect, 
Thy star still glows serenely through the gloom : 
She gilds the brow of night, like yon orb*, 
With the magic of reflected light. 

609 
Distracting thoughts rul'd his bosom by turns, 
Now fir'd by wrath, and now cool'd by reason. 



* The Moon. 



Versification. 185 

That prompts his hand to draw the sword, 

Force through the Greeks, and pierce their lord; 

This whispers soft, to control his vengeance. 

And calm the tempest of his soul. 

610 

Achilles bore not his loss jo ; 

But, returning to the shore^ sad. 

He hung o'er the margin of the deep, 
That kindred deep, from which sprung his mother ; 
There, bath'd in tears of disdain and anger, 
Lamented loud to the main, thus* 

6] !• — The Farmer's Boy^ 
He hies, with many a shrug, from the fire-side, 
Glad, if the moon salute his eyes. 
And, through the siiUness of the nighty, 
Shed her beams of light on his path. 
The distant stile lie climbs with sauntering step, 
Whilst all wears a smile mound him ; 
There views the clouds driven ia clusters, 
And all the pageanlrj/ of heav'n. 

612 
The goddess flies swift* to the seaSy 
Jove to h\s mansion in the skies. 



* As some grammarians loudly eondemn an adjective thus 
employed in conjunction with a verb, and maintain, that, in all 
such cases, in poetry equally as in prose, the adverb alone is 
correctly admissible, viz. " the goddess flies swiftly'' — let me 
caution my young readers against that doctrine, which, if 
adopted, would prove the ruin of poetry; and debase it to ths„ 



1 86 Versijication, 

The synod of th' immortals wait 

The god coming, and^ from their thrones of state, 

Arising silent, rapt mftar, 

Appear before the Mr^jesty of heav'n. 

While Jove assumes the throne, they stand trembling, 

All but the god's queen alone. 



low level of tame, vulgar prose. In poetry, an adjective may 
very properly be thus used — agreeing, of course, with the nomi- 
native to the verb, as here, " the goddess, swift m her motion, 
flies :'^ and, in cases innumerable, it is by far more elegant and 
poetic than the adverb. That such has ever been the unanimous 
opinion of our b^st and most admired poets — -in short, of ail our 
poets most distinguished for correctness of diction and taste — is 
evide^it fi'om their ovvn practice, in which they have judiciously 
copied the example of the Greek and Roman bards, who, much 
bftener than our English writers, use the adjective in lieu of the 
adverb, and with very fine poetic effect, asmust beaekwowledged 
by every reader who is capable of pesceiving and relishing their 
beauties. To wy conception, the mode or quality, thus ex- 
pressed by the adjective, appears more perfectly identified witb 
the substantive^ — becoming, for the moment at least, one of its 
cbaracteristic features, and forming with it a more complete unity 
of object, than could possibly result from the addition of the ad- 
verb. — At the same time, I cannot approve the improper substi- 
tution of the adjective for the adverb, which too often takes 
place in careless conversation, as when a person says he is^^ very 
hadj^ instead of '* very ill -J^ and, although Dr. Johnson (without 
authority) has inadvertently suffered Bad^ for Sick, to steal into 
his dictionary, I advise my young readers to avoid the phrase, 
lest they lay themselves open to such answer as a gentleman of 
vr,j acquaintance jocularly made to a lady who complained that 
she vvas '' vii\'\^ bad" — ''I always thought you had: but now, 
tiiat you confeijs it, I cannot doubt of your hadnessJ** 



Vernjication* 187 

613 
Lo! Faitli's visions burst upon the sight. 
And put to flight the host of Fear. 
Terror's Mi/rmidons recede afar,, 
Before the beams of Hope's star. 
That shoots rai/s, for ever clear sparkling, 
Through Sorrow's realms, and Doubt's hemisphere ; 
Cheers the pilgrim on his zcai/, 
With a happier day, and finer prospects; 
And points the sage^ oppress'd by toils. 
To lasting pleasures, and a land of rest. 

614 
From this cliff, whose impending rough brow 
Frowns o'er the cataract that foams below, 
I view the phiin, where many a hand 
Tills the land for another's gain. 
Borne on the ev'ning breeze, their song 
Stamps images of ease on my soul. 
Ah ! why, dead to man and social converse. 
Do I alone tread the mount ain. 
Where Nature, stubborn and coy, seems to fly 
The human race, and defy all approach r 

615 
When gales diffuse on closing flpwVs 
The fragrant tribute of the dews, 
When, at hex pail ^ the milkmaid chants. 
And, o'er the vale, reapers whistle, 
Charm'd by the murmurs of the shade, 
I strav'd alons; the river's banks, 
And, through the twilight w^ay, calmly musing, 



1 88 Versification. 

I fram'd my rustic lay in pensive mood ; 
When lo ! a golden gleam, from oloudsy 
O'er the shadowy stream pourVI splendorsj 

And its guardian queen arose from the wave^ 

Known by her stole of green. 

6l6 

Oh! say, Muse, whose purer birth 

Disdains the low ties of earth. 

By what images shall be defined 

The nature of th' eternal mind ? 

Or how shall thought explore the height^ 

When to adore is all that reason can ?„,..^ 

Through the ^rac/s of space. 

Go, MmCy and trace present Godhead..... 

Could thy fond flight beyond the starry sphere 

The morning's lucid pinions bear^ 

His presence should shine confessed there^ 

His arm arrest thy course there. 

6)7. — The imprisoned Debtor., 
Hear the debtors pray'r, O^tranger ! 
From des;>air let pity snatch him* 
Though here guilt and folly revel^ 
Many ntear the guiltless oft shed; 
And they devour many a wrong in silence,. 
And feel the hand oi'pow'r. 
For aid, my woes, my wants, cry loud in vain,. 
Since laws are obey'd with rigor. 
On sickly and damp bed my wife lies there. 
Her spints and youth fled, her peace destroy 'd.. 
She saw her child expire, with tearless eye— 
Indifferent to a]l--her sole desire, death. 



Versification. 1 ^9 

618 

lasting infamy ! O disgrace 

To chiefs of manly race, and youth ! 
In you and the gods I trusted, to see 
Greece victorious, and her navy free. 
Ah no ! you disclaim the combat, 
And one c7«j/ clouds all her former fame. 
Heav'ns ! Avhat a prodigy these eyes survey, 
tJnseen, unthought, 'till this dai/ ! 
V\y we at length from Troy's bands oft conquered? 
And falls our fleet by such hands- — 
A straggling train, a rout, 
Not born to glories oit\\e plain ; 
LikefawnSy pursu'd from hill to hill, 
A prey to ev'ry savage of the wood ? 

619 

1 dart my ei/Sy with look erect. 

Seem wing'd to part, and gain my native sky. 

I strive, but, alas ! strive in vain, to mount. 

Tied with magic chain to this globe. 

Now from pole to pole I range with swift thought^ 

View worlds roll around their centres; 

What pow'rs guide their motions 

Through the same paths of void. 

I trace the comet's tail, 

And in a scale weigh the planets. 

While I eager pursue these thoughts^ 

Some trifle, offer'd to my view, 

A gnat, an insect of the meanest kind. 



iQO Versification. 

Erase* from my mind the image t 
Some wanty importunate, craving. 
Vile as the mastiff at my gate. 
Calls off this reasoning me from truth, 
And tells me Fm a brute as much as he, 

620. — May. 
Hail, May^ dear to nature's vot'ries ! 
Thou loveliest offspring of the year 1 
In thy train advance the Graces, 
Move ihmfeety and form the dance. 
Village maids bring their garlands to thee> 
Feel the spring, and blush with health — 
A little space, ere ytars o'ershade, 
To flourish Hke thee, and to fade like thee. 
Hail, chosen month of old, when showers 
Nurs'd i\\i^jtow*rs, and enrich'd tlie meads ; 
When fruits ran in disorder, unc ropp'd, 
God convert 'd with man, and on earth peace dwelt; 
What time, trom dark, wild, and stormy Chaos, 
Sprang creation, and spring smil'd ; 
When the air, shedding heahh and life, 
ChasM all darkness; at who^e breath. Despair 
Might feel a sullen joy, and Disease 
Spring from her couch, to catch ihe breeze. 
The Zephyrs stray'd through th' Elysian fields thus. 
And sooih'd the hero's shade, murm'ring; 
Sigh'd, sadly pleasing, through the cypress wood. 
Whose branches wav'd o^er Lethe's flood, 

♦ Grammar is here sacrificed to metre. The verb should have 
li^een in the singular number, ErnHS, 



Versification. 191 

Q^\.^To the Deity. 
Let /srae? praise thee potent. 
And raise their homage to thy name. 
Let Egypt's land declare thee potent God, 
That fell thy awfully severe justice. 
How d d ihy tVowa benight the land, 
Nature reversM, how own thy command, 
When elements forgot their use, 
And the sun felt thy blot; 
When earth produced the pestilential brood, 
And into blood the stream was crimson'd ! 
How deep the horrors of that night, 
The fright how wild, and the terror how strong. 
When thy sword pass'd o'er the land, 
And infants and men breath'd their last at once ! 
How did thy arm convey thy favor'd tribes. 
Thy light point the ^ay, 
Ocean divide to their march, 
The wat'ry wall on either side distinct, 
While the procession sped through the deep, 
And saw the wonders of its bed! 
Nor long they march'd, 'till, in the rear, black'ning. 
The tj/rant and his host appear. 
Plunge down the steep — the waves obey thy nod, 
And whelm the $torm beneath the sea. 



lyt Versification, 

Iambics of eight syllalles, with alternate rhime.— 
Epithets to he added to the zwrds printed in Italic, 

622 

Zephyrs fan the grove now, 

And SQd^XltY perfumes around; 
And feather d songsters, warbling love, 

Are found in ev'ry bush. 
623 
Oh ! is there not, when eve 

Spreads o'er the vale her light texture, 
Somefai/j that loves to leave 

Her pastime in the dale, 
And, where sits the^oe^ 

To view the mists spread around. 
Flits across his mental vision. 

And wraps in peace his thoughts? 

Iambics of fen syllables^ zcith alternate rhime, — JEpi- 
thets to be added to the words printed in Italic. 

624. — On the Deaih of a Daughter, 
So fair, so gay, where is fled my blossom ? 

Ah ! see I by Death 'tis ravag'd : 
See her honors spread in the dust. 
All pale, aad blasted by his breath. 
625 
Go, rose, and on Ella's breast bloom ; 
And, while thy buds adorn the 7?iaidf 



Vemfimtion. 19€ 

Be blest beneath the sunshine of her ejre«: 
But;, ah ! fair flow'r, conceal thy thorn. 

When, in Utopian dreams, youth 

On the sea of life first launches^ 
He tru.^s to sail on |)leasiire's streams. — 
Ahis! to vroe and scenes of strife he crakes. 
627 . — Evening, 
The shades overspread the west : 

Before the breeze, the clouds sweep on : 
Label' leaves his sons to rest ; 

And^ amt)ng the trees, murmurs sound. 
fjo^S. — Night. 
The poor enjoy now within yon hanalet 
The bUss that flies the great and rich. 
No factious cares annoy their breasts, 
No sorrows agitate, no guilt disturbs. 

Verdure adorns the plain here, 

There the team, and tlie grey fallows, 
The farm's mansion, and the village fane, 
Whose tow'r reflects the solar beam. 
630. — Spring. 
Spring ! I taste thy gales : 

Pregnant with life, they cheer my soul. 
Creation scaules ; the dales,- the hills^ the woods^ 

Hail the morning of the new-born year. 
Expand your bloom, ye groves : 

Ye streams, warble : ye buds, unfold : 
Waft all the plenty of your perfume; 



194 Venification. 

And wavC;, wave your leaves of gold, ye flowVets. 
63 1 . — To a Snow-drop. 
Harhinger of spring, welcome ! 

Thy beauties caught my e^e. 
Solitary flow'r, I've plucked thee, to bring 

Thy tender frame w^here no blasts are nigh, 
I see, thou canst scarce rear thy head; 

VoT frosts pierce thy lovely form : 
But to a safer bed FU transplant thee: 

My fire shall warm, and my hand shall raise the®. 
632 
Behold ! past is the storm : 

The sun relumes the face of day : 
^ach Jlow'r, that shrunk before the blast, 

Spreads to the cheering ray its bosom. 
Its reviving tints glow bright and more bright ; 

Its petals catch the gale: 
Zephyrs blow o er its breast, 

And through the vale waft new fragrance. 
633. — Summer. 
Spring withdraws now her milder-beaming ray, 

And summer, glowing o'er the com, 
To these ijorthcrn climes leads the day, 

Borne refulgent from Afric's plains. 
No cloud steers its course across the welkin, 

To pour m shoZk/fs upon the earth : # 
No fountain bubbles from its source: 

No dews refresh xh^jiowWs. 
634 
O Nature ! may thy sway ever 



Vtnificatiom 1 95 

Lead me a votary to tbj shrine. 
May no passion chase away that sense, 

That iV els a bliss in charms like tbine ; 
VVbether^ enshrined in autumn's clouds, 

You* touch the leaves with yellow tints, 
Or raise, before the reaper's mind, 

Grain to fill his future sheaves ; 
The wand' rev with the Zephyr's breeze 

Whether you cheer 'mid summer's fe/trze. 
Or paint the trees with liveliest green, 

When Spring's warmth endears her milder days. 
635. — Evetiing. 
When eve, fair child of da^, 

Throws o'er the verdant ground her mantle, 



* I wish my young readers to observe, that, after Tk^' 9Jid 
Thine prectdiui^, unitMnnity requires Thou touchest^r aUest^ho. 
in the siiijjular number; and that a sudden transicion from Th§u 
sifyd Thif to You and Your^ or the reverse, ought, if possible, to 
be avoided; though niftncal necessity, and a regard to euphony 
occasionally compel pi>ets to fail into that irrciiuiarity, which 
however, \b much less hiamahle than iVIr. Pope's unurammatiG 
chai5ge of number in the followintJ^passage, where the nominative 
i» singular, and the verbs plural — 

Thou first great cause, least understood, 

Who all my sense confined 
Ta know but this, that thou art good. 

And that myself am blind; 
Yet gave me, in this dark estate, 

To see the good from ill, 
And, binding nature fast in fate, 
Jjfft free the human will...... 



196 Versification, 

How sweet to stray adown the vale, 

While Cynthia sheds her radiance xoxkwA ! 
How sweet to hear the bird of woe* 

Pour to the grove her 7nurmurs, 
As the vvarbled numbers flow through the air, 

Fraught with the melody of Jove ! 
How sweet to mark the landscape near, 

The tozi^'r^ and the cottage ! 
How sweet to hear the village peal^ 

Borne ou the gale at this silent s^oft hour ! 

The first line to rliime zdth the fourth — the second 
with the third* 

636 
Ah ! pleasing scenes, where my childhood stray'd once. 

Securely blest in innocence! 
No passions inspir'd my breast then ; 
'Ho fears sway'd my bosom. 

Iambics of eight syllables, — The Italic words to be 
altered to other expressions^ either sijnoni/mous or in 
some degree equivaktit, 

637 
Why can no poet, with magical strain, 
Steep the heart of pain in sleep? 



^ The NIghtingaie. 



Versification. 197 

638 
Possessed of conscious rectitude. 
Can grie/' pierce the good man's bosom ^^ 

639 
Justice shall yet open her eyes. 
Yet arise terrific in anger. 
And tread on the tyrant's bosom^ 
And make op[)re^sion groan oppressed. 

Iambics of ten syllables, — The Italic words to be 
altered, as above ; and the elided syllables to be di^cO" 
vered by the pupil's own sagacity^. 

640 

While for^ner desires still continue within. 
Repentance is only want of power to commit sins, 

641 
The white-robed priest stretches forth his upraised 

hands: 
Every voice is hushed : attention bends, leaning. 

* N» B. When two or more Ftalic words come totreiher with- 
out a line separating them, they are to be taken collectively, and 
altered to some other word or phrase of similar import. Bat, 
when they are divided by a perpendicular line interposed, each 
division is to be separately taken, and altered independently of 
the other. The following example will make this plain — 

She receives with gratitude what heaven has sent, 

And, rich in poverty, possesses | contentment — 

She gratefutly receives -vhat iieav'n has sent. 

And, rich in poverty, enjoys content — 
in which lines, the words, with gratitude, are together altered to 
gratefully —possesses J separately altered to etijoys — and content- 
tnentf to content. 

R 3 



642 
Whence flows the strain that salutes the dawn of 



morning ? 



The Red-breast sings in the flowering haw-Pkorn. 

643 
ifow unbounded snows disfigure the withered heath, 
And the dim sun Jmrd/y wanders through the storm. 

644 
When her husband ] dies, the widowed Indian 
Mounts the dreadful pile, and braves the funeral fires. 

645 
A'las ! how un-amiiing is pity's tear with thee. 
The orphan's terror, or the widow's anguish ! 

646 
Not by the assistance that marble or brass affords, 
Lives the remembrance of the noble patriot. 

647 
I would soon, xmh pleasure, \ exchange existence 
Tor the lasting sleep of one endless night. 

648 
Courageous and undismaj/ed as the god of war. 
When prostrate legions fall round his chariot.' 

649 
Here early rest my.kes early rising certain : 
Disease or does not come, or linds'easy cure,— 
Much prevented by neat and simple diet. 
Or speedili/ starved out again, if it enter. 

650 
He comes ! iremendom Brama shakes the sunless sky 
With Qiurmufing attger, and thuaders from aboi'e. 



Fers^cation . 1 99 

Under h'n warrior form^ heaven's fiery horse 
Gallops on the tempest, and paws the light clouds. 

He ceased; and the crowd still continued silent) 
While rapt* attention acknozoledged the power of 

music: 
Then^ loud as when the whirlwinds of zmnter blow, 
The thundering applauses flow from all toices, 

652 
When the Egyptians^ a rude untutored people^ 
Learned to ornament the obelisk with wild figui*es. 
And fashion the idol godf in ductile clai/, 
The polished needle and loom took their origin, 

* Let my young readers carefully distinguish tbis elegant an4 
expressive Latin word frora the cominon English Wr&ppedy with 
wliich it is too often confounded; — a circumstance, to which it 
perhaps owes its exclusion from some of our niodern dictionaries, 
«ndep the mistaken idea of its being only a corruption of the 
English word. — Rapt (of the same origin as Rapture^ Rapid, 
Rapine, and Rapacious, which have no connexion with zvrapplng) 
signifies snatched or hurried awa^/, transported, enraptured^ ec- 
ftasied. Thus Pope — 

Rapt into future times, the bard begun : 

*' A virgin shall conceive, a virgin bear a son.^' 

t Idol god, — This expression, which I print as two separate 
words, suggests to me that it may not be improper in this place 
ta notice the hyphen, which has, of late years, been ejiiployed in 
our typography to a truly blamable excess, and, on some occa- 
sions, to the utter perversion of ihe syntax and the sense, as, for 
example, in Each other and One another, which we sometimes 
tee improperly coupled with the hyphen as compounds, thoogh 
lotallj distinct In the grammatical construction ; since; in those 



£00 Vemjicaiion' 

653 
How short is the life of man ! Time descends rapidly. 
Our fi*ien^!s and our h«tlu'is go away with him; 



elliptic phrases, thf re is always a suppres erl word understood to 
intervene, an<i lo irov.^n) the word other o» another. — Without 
entering inlo a y:eneral and init-Mite inv« stii^ation of the various 
uses of the hyphen, I s'lall here oflvr a few cursory remarks on 
some of tile case-i in which I conreive that it ouuhi to be inserted 
or omirteH ; previously ohservinLi, that the rules are n«»t to be 
taken separately, hui in connexion, as far as ihey ajiree; — that 
ihQ ace f 71 1 will, in most cases, prove a sure jL^jiide; and the ear 
may nime safely he trusted than the eye. — 1. When each of 
two contiL'uoiis siihstantives retains its oriii^inal accent, omit the 
byphen, as Maffer bfiilder. Where tfie latter loses or alters its 
accent, insert tiie liyph. n, as shipbuilder . '-- ^, Win n two sub- 
stantives are in Af>ptisitfon^ and eacl. is separately applicable to 
the person o ihmu desij^n ited, omit the hyphen, as the Lord 
chaTicellor, who is horh a lord and a chancellor. Wl en they are 
not in Appoaitiouy and only one of the two is separately applica- 
ble to the perstui or ihinu;, insert the hyphen, as a horse'dealcr^ 
who is ^ dealer^ hut not a horse. — 3. When the first substantive 
serves the purpose of an adjective expressing the matter or sub- 
stance ;>t wh.ch the second consists, and may be placed after it 
with Of (not denoting; possession) omit the hyphen, as a Silkgownf 
a Cork juckt'i, >. e. ajjown fl/'silk, a jacket o/'cork. Wiien the first 
does not exi ress the matter or suhstanct of the second, and may 
be placed after it with O/' denoiing (possession) or witli For or 
Belonging to, insert ti e hvphen, as School-master, Flay-time^ 
Cork'^strezv, Lannd/ynund, i. t. Master ofn school, Time of or for 
play, Scien/or corss,Maid belon^t7ig tox\\e laundry. — 4. Between 
an adjective and its substantive (need as such in the sentence) owif 
the hyphen, as High sheriff', Frime tninister. When the adjective 
and its substantive are together used as a kind of compound 



Versification. 201 

While vve^ melancholi/ mourners, lag behind, to shed 

tears^ 
To fitter [ un-atailing sighs, and keep wakeful vigils. 

654 
As wild m^^mvkYj figures j terrify 
The child all darAiirig in the obscurity of night. 
Fond dreams, as wild as infant terrors^ dismay 
Our s; lis with fear \a the glare o'i day -light. 

adjective to another subr.tautire, inserc the hyphen between tli^ 
two forruer, as High-church doctrine. — 5. Wheii an adjective 
or advci'b, and a participle in., 'ouiately iuUovving, are together 
used as a kind of compound adjecdve^ .jerely exj.ressing an 
inherent quality without r.^^e- . ..:e to isjnnaec! acii u], aad (ia 

the order of syntax) r?'e^eu<; che Sf' ^taut vc ti- .vhich tbey are 
joioed, insert the hy^:-ben, as - qi(i:k-saiung v. .-.■., -/hen they 
napJy im?nediate acv^on^ au*' (i;i ilie ui-dc. ^f syati.. ^\foUoio the 
sabscantivie, o??2i/ the !ypheiL, • '"^ ^' '^; yi^ic'- 'Luq ^'-r -he 
deep, or Quick sailing o'er ti . i ■ ur^;^:^ h^r 

course. — Tj^^^ saiiie distinction i:,ay iikewi^ . other 

eases, vvi»!cii do n-.r cxactiy fall uad^-r chose uccu i i...^iL;i.-j nb tlie 
above-mentioned circuinstances, a.jd the circumst ucc^ aho'se 
meniiojied. — The prectduio; rules are undoubiedly liable to many 
exceptluns, wliich I Ccun )t h«re undertai;^ to eim litratc. Iiii- 
perfect, however, as tiitij are, they may prove utieful : aiid it is 
worthy of remark, thuc^ :n every one of the cases which I kave 
notice 1, the acceni, as beio.-e observed, is a sure guide. In the 
follow::. •, its effects will b- evident. A glass house, a tin md^i, 
an iroji inoidd. t negro merchant, pronounced as sepnvnte words, 
each with its i-.atural accent, v/ill meari a house made of glassp 
a ?nGn made of tin, :i mould made of iron, a merchant who is a 
negro : but a glass- hop. fi\. a tin-man, an iron-mould, a ,iCgro-mer- 
chant, taken as compouuas, witli a change o,' accent, will mean a 
house for mannfocturing glass, a man who zoorks in tin, a mould 
or stain caused by the rust of iron^ a merdmnt who buys and seiti 
ne^'roee. 



202 Ver$iJicjition. 

055 
The imfoTtunate \ maid strays, in profound despair, 
Througt) taugled paths, and roads \ not frequented , 
While cold vapors shroud the moon^s palerm/. 
As she roamSy wild, by the ajurmuring stream. 

6.5C [ship, 

Wicked men, professing the hallowed name of friend- 
Form a cov^nant of shame instead of it, 
A dark corfederation against the laws 
Of virtue, and the glorious cause of religion. 

657 [her, 

Extended j upon that bier in death's last heavy slum^ 
Lies, cold and fnotionkss, the friend for whom I 
shed tears. 

608. — The Picture of Venus. 
When first the Rhodian's imitative art arrayed 
Venus in the shade of Cyprus, 
The hfipf>y master mixed in hh picture 
Eacl) look I hat deiighted h'lm \n the beautiful women 

ofCireece. 
Faithfid to nature free from fault, he borrowed a 

grace 
From every more beautiful form, and sweeter coun^ 
ienance. 

659 
Luminous as the pillar rose at the command ofheaveny 
When the Israel tes | travelled aUing the wilderness, 
Blazed, during tne night, on solitary wilds, afar, 
And told the path — a star, that never set : 
So, cekstial Genius ! in thy divine career, 



■# 



Versification. 203 

Hope is thy star: her Jight ever is thine. 

Babylon ! to grace the feast, thy daughters 

Weave xh^Jiowing robe, and paint the vest ornamented 

wvhjiotcers: 
They brai I the ^ios.^y hair wiib wreaths of roses; 
They color the che<^k, which Nature formed so beau^ 

tiful, 
L^arn the delicate step, the glance which subdues the 

soul, 

Swim adown the dance^ and melt in the song, 

661 
Mild Peace, come from realms of everlasting \ repose! 
Bid the troubled earth be happy ^ like thy own heaven. 
Bid destructive war cease his mad ravage, 
And 'Plenty gladden the earth with new increase. 
Oh ! bid deploring nations cease to lament, 
And convert guilty swords into smiling ploughshares. 

662 
Ah ! of what use is it, if the fire of the Muse 
Must dicy like the meteor^s transitory Hash ? 
Alas ! what does it boot ? since the hevo% fate 
Is Death*s obscure j cave, and the oblivious grat?e — 
Since not Fame's loud trumpet can bestow \ durable 

praise ; 
And neither bays noir laurels live in the grave, 

663 
Retired from the noisy court and loud camp. 
In rural diversion and honorable ease 
He securely \ spent the remainder of his days, 



^04 Versiji^ation. 

Jnddid noijind ihey flew too fast, or Jagged too^iomfy^ 

He made his desire complj vvith his estate 

Gkd to Jive, jet not afraid ofdj/i?}g. 

664 
The adventurous boy, who ash for his little portion, 
And hies from home with the prayer of many a, gossip, 
Turns upon the neighbouriiig hill, to behold once again 
The belomd j residence of privacy and peace; 
And, as he turns, the thatched roo/ among the trees, 
The smoke's blue wreaths, mounting with the breeze 
AW rouse reflexion's mournfuUy pleasing train,^ 
And he often looks, and sheds tears, and again looks. 

mo 

Oh ! at the hour of moo72light, let 'me roam 
To some silent bower, or private grove. 
When the songs of the plumy multitude cease. 
And the nightingale her plaintive song commences. 
Sweet bird of eveningj I delight in thy liquid note, 
That^ from thy quivering ih y oat, jiozc'tth melHfluous. 

Zephyr! fleeting Zephyr ! delay longer. 
And do not bear away that lovely musical sound, 

666 
When the zeestern gale breathes upon the blue waves, 
M^^ panting bosom \ defies the peaceful sea, 
Glows with the scene, inhales tho^emore soft \ delights 
Dropped from the balmy wings of the breezes. 
But, when the curled \ wave j lifts up its form. 
And silent horror broods on the temped, 

1 direct my steps to yon sheltering wood. 
The repeat of love, the r(fitge of mi$fortime* 



Versification; t!05 

667. — The Carrier Pigeon. 
Guided by what chart, transports the timid pigeon 
The wreaths of victori/, or the professions of love ? 
Say,whatcompassdirec^5her flight through the clowds? 
Kings have gazed, and nations have blessed the sight. 
Heap up rocks on rocks : bid mountains and fo- 
rests I arise : 
Hide from x'fetg? her native skies, her native shades : 
It is to no purpose: she proceeds through aether's 

wilds where there is no path. 
And at last alights where all her cares rest. 

668 
Where should wq discover {iho^e consolations 2Li an end. 
Which Scripture affords) or hope to discover a friend ? 
GnV/might then muse herself 2Wo madness. 
And, seeking banishment from the sight of mankind^ 
Bury herself in deep solitude, 
Grow mad with her pangs, and bite the earth. 
Thus frequently unbelief, become weary of livings 
riies to the felon knife, or inviting pool. 

669 
And shall I be afraid to wander at this dark hour 
In the solemn stillness of the wood. 
Or where rise the battlements worn by time^ 
Or the haughty turret lieth low in ruin ? 
I disdai7i the idea — being assured ihdXsoNexeign power 
Rules the noontide or the nightly hour alike: 
And I roam, as free from groundless alarm, here 
In the midsi of these shades, as in the blaze of sun^ 
shine. 



£06 Versification. 

While to tby attention^ O thou almighty protector, 
I commend my spirit, by night or day. 

670 
Friend of my bosom, companion of my earli/ age, 
As renow7ied for learning, as respected for truth. 
Combined in whom vve admire equally 
The wisdom of the philosopher and the fire of the poet, 
A generous disposition and an elevated mind. 
Unlimited genius, and undamped warmth; 
JEquaUy skilful to raise the sublime song. 
Or ^^oxt play fully among the flowery meadows ; 
The smiling Muse has taught thee all her skill. 
To catch the imagination, and to take possession of 

the heart. 

67l*~Tobacco. 
Noxious weed ! whose odor \ molests the ladies. 
Unfriendly to society's greatest { pleasures! 
Thy most mischievous effect is driving away for hours 
The sex whose society civilises ours. 
Thou art indeed the drug, of which a gardener stands 

in need. 
To destroy vermin that infest his plants. 
But are we so blinded to beauty and genius, 
As to set no value upon the glory of our species. 
And show to the fairest ayid softest forms 
As little lenity as to worms and grubs ? 

(572 \viezc, 

Nobody sends his arrow to the mark which he lias in 
Whose aim \s false, or whose hand weak. 
For; although, | before the arrow is yet on the wing, 



Versification, 207 

Or when it first quits the elastic cordy 
It deviate but little from the line intended, 
In the end k f?dls far wide of his intent. [hecwen, 

In like manner, | the person who seeks an abode in 
Must with a steadfast eye watch his design. 
That prize belongs to the sincere alont : 
The smallest obliquity is here fatal. 
673. — The Maniac. 
Listen! the distracted maniac sings, to chide the wind, 
That Y/afts her lover's distant ship so slozoly. 
She, melancholy spectatress ! on the bleak shore 
Watch'd the rude billow^ that bore his bodi/^ j desti- 
tute^ of a shroud, 
Recognised the pale form, and, shrieking in amaze- 
ment, 
Locked together her cold hands, and fixed her mad- 
dening stare. [_tears, 
Poor widowed creature! it was tlieie she vainly j shed 
Until memory JiedJ'rom her agonising brain. 
But, to charm the sensation of misery, Mercy besiouxd 
Ideal peace, that truth could never give. 
The pleasures of imagination beam warm on her heart ; 
And hope, without an aim \ cAar/?z5 her darkest dreaai. 

674.— To Hope. 
Favoring power! wheii. rankling cares disturb 
, The sacred home of connubial joy, 
Where, condemned to poverty's remote dell. 
The wedded pair of affection and virtue live, 
Meetmg no pity from the world, tioi knozai to fame, 



208 Versification. 

Hhmsorro'WSy their ^^^ires, and their hearts the same — 
Oh r in that spot, \ prophespngHopey bestow thy smile. 
And drive away the pangs that worth should never 

experience. 
There, as the parent distributes his insufficient store 
To young children \ bereft of friends^ and weeps to 

bestow no more, 
AnnoimcCy that his manly offspring shall yet alleviate 
Their father's wrongs, and pi^otect his advanced age, 

675 
At eve in summer^ when the aerial bow of heaven 
Spans with hriUiant arch the glittering hills beneath. 
Why does the musing eye turn to yonder mountain, 
Whose top, [ bright with sun-shine, mingles with the 

sky? 
Why do those cliffs of shadowy coloring \ seem 
More sweet than the eiitirc landscape \ which smiles 

near? 
It is distance^ lends enchantment to 'the prospect, 
And arrays the mountain in its blue \ coloring. 
In the same 7nanner, we linger with pleasure, to view 
The promis'd delights of life's unmeasured road: 
Thus, from a distance, ieach scene dimly discovered 
Jppears more captivating than all the past has been; 
And every form, that imagination can repair 
Prom dark forgetfulness, glows there divinely. 

Ten-syllable Iambics, in which some of the Italic 
words are to have epithets added — some are to be al- 
tered—some are both to be altered and to have epithets ; 



Versification. 20g 

— each particular case to he distinguished by the pupil's 
own sagacity. 

67 6. —Botany Bay. 
Here we are secure : on this peaceful shore, 
No lions IOB.Y, no tigers prowl : 
No wolf is heard : no brake 
Hides the venom of the coiling serpent. 
The summers smile as mildly here as in England ; 
As mild winters terminate the year. [this country; 
Nor is the breath of the autumnal whirlwind heard in 
Nor spring | storms breathe the blast of death. 
Without a single \ regret to call my tears, 
Or awake one desire, 1 feel myself satisfied here. 
And we shall yet enjoy happiness: yonder bea7n^ 
The mild radiance of departing day-light, 
As gaily gilds over this humble habitation, 
As the superb \ edifices on England's remote share. 

QjT^—The Slave-Trade. 
The ties of friend, husband, father. 
All bonds of nature, cease in that moment* 
And each suffers, while he yet breathes, 
A stroke not less fatal than \ Death's scythe. 
The &/«cA warrior, mad with regret [remembrance. 
Of the woman he loves, and never can lose from his 
Loses in his tears the shore retiring to a distance. 
But not the idea that they must never -again meet. 
Robbed, at a blow, of her and liberty, 
What has he remaining, that he yet can forego ? 
Yes, sullenly resigned to melancholy. 
He feels in his mind the bondage of his body, 

S3 



^^^ Versification. 

Divests himself of h\s generous disposition, and, to sui^ 

llh raanners with Ins d.,tim^, pm^ on the brute. 

678 A. 
Ye spirits, who dwellin unknown worlds. 
Formidable spectres ! to what place are yon flown > 
I have often heard, you c/.%A^, at this awful hour, 
io ;-«or^ to the moss-grown tower, or aisle tying in 
lo fl.t along tue glade in shadowj^g^re., [.«/„,, 

Ur stalk giant-Uke 'midst tlie sA^r^e. 

Yet here, w«.«ccoCTj)ame*i, 1 walk with silent steps. 

Where broken walls spread their ruins; 

Where the remaiiis of the great and fair 

Mest in awful state, vainly enshrined ; 

Where the dark ivy embraces the embattled tower. 

And lengthens out its last hour for a time: 

^^t everj/ thing k quiet ; no ghost uppeais ; 

^o phantom uprears its hi\ge figure ; 

No spiri :, robed m white, glided though the darkness; 

No groan | hwltf iiiu iters from ihe grave. 

618 B. 
As wheu a criminal, whom the laws of his country 
Have with just reason \ sentenced for some atrocious 

cause, 
Expects, in darkness and terrors, 
The ignominious j termination of all his years zohich 

he has spent amiss ; 
If, chance, slowly borne on heavy winas, 
A storm [ introduce, the dreaded morning, 
The Ughtiiing plays upon the walls of his dungeon, 
Tlie tiuuider appears to call him away ; 



Versification. 211 

The warder applies his key at the door. 

Shoots the bolt hackward, and all his fortitude dies. , 

If, at that moment, jis: at that moment, all thought 

of mercy bemg lost, 
When^hope, long lingering, at lastg^m up the ghost. 
The sound of pardon penetrate his startled ear, 
He drops at the same moment his chains and his terror ; 
In every thing that he speaks and looks, a transport 

glows ; 
And the first tears of gratitude \ wet his cheeks. 

679« — Cosciusko, 
Warsaw's last champion viewed, from her summit, 
A waste of destruction laid widely over the field. 
He exclaimed, '' Oh ! Heaven ! preserve my bleeding 
country! \yaUantf 

Is there no hand m the regions above, to protect the 
Nevertheless, thou ghruin sweep these lovely plains, 
Arise, fellow men! our country remains yet. 
By that azoful name we brandish the swovd on high^ 
And swear to live for her^ to perish with her.'^ 
Thus he spoke, and, on the heights of the ramparts, 

arrayed 
His warriorj, few, but undaunted. 
Firm in t-eirpace, and slow, they form a horrid front, 
As still as the breeze, but as terrible as the tempest. 
Sounds lowly murmuring fly along their banners : 

The watch-word and re[)]y, '*' Revenge or death !*' 

To no purpose, alas! to no purpose, ye brave few, 

Your volleyed thunders fl(:^w from rank to rank 

For a time, Hope bade farewell to the world; 
And Liberty \ uttered a shriek as Cosciusko fell. 



212 Fersijication. 

680. — Beauty s Eclipse. 
The storm of a winter's night howled loudlj/, 
And lamps \ gave a di?n light. 
No da?^ I illuminated the vault of heavea 
But c/oz^c?s were wildly driven over its face. 
In each street^ \ silence \ prevailed^, ^ 

Except where the blast, or slett^ > 

Was heard to whistle, or to beat rudely. ^ 
It was then, that, leaning on a step, 
Resigned to all the power of wretchedness, 
With famine in her eye, and zoith grief on her cheek, 
A child of misfortune was observed to lie. • 
The wind blew roughli/ \ round her shivering jf/ame; 
Her sighs were lost in the storm. 
Exposed was her bosom, once so^beautifulj 
Now the abode of despair. 
Her hair lay loose down her back — 
Those iocksy once dressed in showy colors. 
Her temples were damp with the dews of death, 
And her struggling and thickre^pim^zon slowly drawn. 
Life's taper hastened to an end : 
She invokes De^ath — an acceptable friend to her. 
1 observed the termination of her tempestuom day : 
I saw her lingering graces gradually vanish — 
Heard the last sounds tremble on her lips, 
While nature heaved a sigh at the eclipse of Beauty. 

* Here is a triplet — three verses rhimiug together. 



Versification. 2] 3 

Iambics of eight and six syllablesy zcith alternate 
rhime; the Italic zcords subject to alteration and addi- 
tion, as in the preceding examples, 

681 
Do not inquire of me the essential form 

That highly-prized beauty weardh. 
Ah! who is able to paint the magical charm. 

That ensnares each j bosom^^ 
Search for the reply in your breast ; 

For the secret is discovered there. 
It is your own taste that jDoints the arrow, 

And causes our beauty to Txxnmd. 

Iambics of eight syllables, with alternate rhime ; the 
Italics, as above. 
682 
I am pleased with the tear, the pearl otsorrozVj, 

That adorns the eye affected by sympathy — 
To behold the stream of grief \Jlowing, 
To hear deeply-heaving sighs, 
683 
Yes^ let the miser reckon his money. 

And labor and scrape to increase the heap: 
Say, can the heart, that is cold and hard, 
Enjoy the fruitful pleasures of riche$'^ 
684 
I delight to hear the woodlark singings 

As, rising from her ne^t, 
She makes the valleys and woods resound^ 
And pleasingly sooths my soul to peace. 



214 Versificatio7i. 

665 
Tortured by the hand of disease^ 

See, our favorite bard lies ; 
While every object, cakulated to give pleasure. 

Ungratefully flies to a distance from his couch. 

Iambics of ten syllables, with alternate rhime ; the 
Italics, as above. 
686 
No wisdom of man can foresee the injury: 

No prudence of man can turn aside its force. 
Like the zMrlwind, \ behold! ii rushes along; 
And nothing but heaven can check its career. 
687 
Come, Sleep! and assuage this sickness of soul : 

Come, Sleep ! and clasp me to thy bosom. 
Offspring of oblivion ! roll over my imagination, 
And grant me repose m some long, long slumber. 
688 
Not affected by care, the whistling hind goes 
To yon bank, where high the poplar moves 
Its limbs : as he makes ready his repast, 

His Jog craves the morsel zi'Iiich he expects. 
689 
Ah ! ofzehat advantage is it, that the face of day 

Wears the verdure of returning spring? 
Alas ! it does not $hed any genial beam on me: 
Its approaches do not bring any ^oh feelings. 
690 
Though pearls enrich the depths of the sea, 
No eye sees the beauty of their ray. 



Versification 215 

They sleep in deep caves under the waters^ 

And from the gaze of day conceal their brilliance/, 
69 1. —To a Red-breast. 

Wanderer! .to this shed thou art welcome : 
For thou hast endured the cold pitiless tempest, 

Felt the blast on thy undefended head, 

And heard destruction threaten thy gentle ym?7ie. 

Perking in my face^ ^nA perching upon my book. 

The Robin/ md of guile j appears to watch my 
uihl he is not acquainted zeith man's race, [thoughts, 

By whose allurement birds are taken. 
Even man to man is but rarely true: 

The love, which he professes, is art. 
Though heaven's image appear on hh forehead, 

Yet Robin boasts a heart of greater jmrit?/, 
693 
Oh ! she was as beautiful as liUes of the valley: 

Her voice was divine : on her cheek, 
Pale with pain and long sickness, 

Seit patience ever mild, and Cc\lm-eyed faith. 
Family j affection would watch the whole day, 

Smoothing her pillow: \ in the mean time, she 
Passed the hours in thankful sijence, 

Reviving hope with many a smile. 

6g4.—To the Violet. [are past, 

Now winter's gloomy and uncomfortable \ mornings 

And the sun's renovating warm beams prevail. 
Now wandering over the waste of the commo?i, 

To breathe the scents] conveyed on the wind 



216 Versification. 

From the pale primrose or gold-colored furze-broom^ 

I discover thy blue gems, spread so lowly 
Beneath some solitary thorn adown the valley, 

Hardly rearing thy head from the ground. 
695 
Delightful Hope, that with fond delusive dreams still 

Cheerest the melancholy heart, surcharged with 
sorrow and care, 
My mind longs for those healing streams \_rison. 

Which flow from thee, and delight beyond compa- 
Oh ! vouchmfe \ therefore to visit my solitary cell. 

And breathe thy influence on my fatigued soul: 
Pleasing flatterer, come, and, with a smiky \ declare 

That my hours shall yet pass infelicity ; 
That the tide of Fortune shall flow again. 

That foes shall relent, and friends smile; 
That I shall increase in wisdom, as in years, ^ 

And find all my moments crowned with sweet con- 

696 {tentment. 

Where 'woods extend their shade, [wight. 

And give additional horrors to the obscurity of 
If, chance, the swain bend his steps. 

In fear pausing for some light; [the glade. 

How joyously \ does his heart beat, when, through 

He perceives the moon^s ray \ penetrating the cloudsl 
With vigorous and light step he springs onward, 

And salutes the empress of the fainter day. 
Thus, while I ramble through life's paths, 

Should despondence spread the gathering darkness, 
May Hope's lustre, streaming from on high. 

Dispel the bodings of a sad | destiny. 



Fersification. 217 

697 
Solitan/^'dndfuil of thought^ near some unfrequented 
shore, 
jit a distance from the resorts of men, I love to 
zcandeVy 
And zdth caution. \ explore my path at a dista?ice, 
Where the step of man never marked the way. 
1 endeavour to fly far from the gaze of the^pubiic, 

And communicate my sorrows to the winds alone, 
While, in my eye and cheek, 

The fire, that consumes my inmost heart, appears* 
But, alas! I fruitlessly go to scenes /<2r removed: 

No solitude allays my thoughts, 
Methinks, even /j/e/es5 things must know 
The flame that secretly preys on my soul. 
693 
Farewell, autumn ! I feel the breath 

And influence of winter's reign. 
How extensively the empire of death spreads roundy 

Usurping pleasure's j domain. 
The sun now ascends slowly over eastern hills, 

V^hWe fogs besiege the vale: 
His oblique iDeams now shine faintly at mid-day, 

And the valley is only iialf illmninaied. 
Clouds sail through the slcy in rapid succession. 

And obscure ail the solea.ri view round : 
The wood murmurs to the gale .- 

llie storm \ rapidly i^usRcs along tiie ground, 

* Compare this piece with No. 822. 
T 



218 Versification. 

* 699.-^0 a Candle. 

Hail, luminous companion of m j solitary hours, 

My midnight sun with light faintly glimmering! 
Thy master now pours a- sonnet to thee : 

Accept the poetry : it is all the poet can pay. 
When darkness veils the earth. 

And Night with black sceptre exercises her dominion 
over the plain, 
Jfhen 1 Fear gives spectres birth, 

And imaged horrors fill the brain of the vulgar; 
Then I withdraw to my chamber, 

Where books and solitude invite; 
Trim my fire with secret satisfaction, 
And light my taper from its flame. 
More pleasing to me thy little quivering rays. 

Which hardly \ enlighten my study round, 
Than the p^lare. where thousand torches burn, 
And Folly and Mirth pour their united sound. 
700 
Inconstantly seen through dust drive^^i in whirlwinds, 
The swords^^Aic/% flash : the frequent victim dies; 
While, over his mutilated trunk, aud ghastly visage, 

Armies rush trampling, where /w?^/ calls. 
TeU me, soldier, grim spectacle of pain^ tell me, 

Whcrt Siren decoyed thee from thy home, 
To abandon thy poor, thy small domestic train, 

Tc wander ^ ver billowy deeps for labors of arms? 
Jso beams of g\oty cheer thv U7 fortunate \ destiny; 

Thy name does not descend to future ages— • 

Forced lo fight for thou knowest not what^ 



Versification. 219 

And impelled to butchery by the rage of another 

person. 

Thy widoWy thy children weep, 

And beg their subsistence from door to door. 

While thy limbs, mangled with wounds, sleep zmth" 

out honor^ 

And waste and rot on the shore of a strange country. 

-■''-,.'■'. 
Titefirst line to rhimewith the fourth — the ^Zdzdth the Sd. 

701 

Jt a distance from the disturbance of the busy multi^ 
tude, 

I court the grove's \ shade ; 

And, as I behold the tints of the sun \ fading, 
I perceive the hours dragging along" heavily. 
I ramble onward, and, rapt^ in pensive gloom. 

Meditate on the various evils of wayward life, 

On falsehood's mife^ ambition's contention, 
And virtue rapidly going to an early grave. 

702 
iAh! desii' pleasures of youth, {or. ewer gone! 

Ah ! were I once again a child here. 

Again this strand, these wood-walks. 
And dells, T would tread with careless step. 
The wanderings of more mature years 

Would then present no unpleasant retrospect ; 

Nor regret for time imprudently \ wasted 
Would fill my foreboding \ bosom M^iva fears. 



* Set the noU on R9.pt,^No, 651, page 1©9, 



^£0 Versification^ 

103. —To a Ked^brmst, 

In autumn's decline, thy lay which szs)eetly sooths^ 
Thj querulous warbHngs, lulled my cares to peace: 
When winter came, arrai/ed in hofrors, 

I beheld thee silent on the sprai/. 

The trees again dressed in gay leaves, 
While reflected rays streak the west, 
Thy cadence again sooths my uneasy \ bosom, 

And trills the reqpiem oi day-light departing. 

The first and third lines to rhimc — second and fourth — 
fifth and eighth — "sixth and seventh. 
704 
The transitory \ little fiower is no sooner born*, 

Than, quickly ripening, it hastily proceeds to decay : 
Nursed by the beams of morning y 

Its little year is terminated at evening. 

* Born, — Although many persons confine this word to the 
birtk of living creatures, and some even exclusively restrict it 
to the human species, there is no impropriety — none in poetry 
at least. — in applying it to irrational creatures, or to inanimate 
productions. As a cow hears a caif, and the earth hears 
flowers, the caif is born of the cow, and the flowers horii of the 
earth ; which, in reality, means nothing else than borne hy the 
cow or the earth; horn and home having been originally the 
same identical participle from Eecw', though they now happen to 
be differently pronounced. But that difference of sound is purely 
accidental, and such as we may every day observe in Torn^ 
Shorn, and Forlorn ; some speakers making them to rhime with 
Horn, otljers with Sworn; which latter prounciation, by the way, 
is more agreeable to etymology; those words being formed by 
syncope from the antique Tbren, bhoren, Forlbren^ as Born and 
Sworn from' Bbren and SworH ; whereas'the other sound (rliim- 



Versijicntion. 221 

And thus man's life : — the child 

Speedily enters into youth's spring ; 

Then remains a while, 'till Time, with qtiick wing, 
Drives him on to Age's dreary wilderness. 

The first and fourth lines to rhime — second and third 
— Ji/th and eighth — sixth and seventh — ninth and 
eleventh — tenth and twelfth, 

705 
Man of the grei/ \ hair, thou must zmnder 

Through [the*] waste destitute of wafer, and over 

[the*] hill destitute of herbs, 
Where no blossom blooms^ and wheie no rivulet 
rolls, 
To cheer thyjourney to Deeiih, thy journey \ void of Joy, 
But youth, whose soul is hope, anticipates no evil : 
Trees arch h\s path; and cheerful landscapes 
Smile all round him, while the sun 
Shines on shades resounding with the song of bird^, 

and quiet valleys. 
He looks right before him with that eye void of fear, 

Which does not discover a sorrow in futurity : 

But age, that heaves many sighs over past pleasures, 

Shall soon humble his fond aspiring thoughts. 

ing with Horn) was originally oiny a provincialism, such as, to 
this^day, we may perceive in many of the liatives of certain di- 
stant counties, who often pronounce the long like AW, thus 
converting Joe into Jazv, Know into Gnaw, Whole into V/all, 
sounded exactly like the wall of a house. 

* ^* The^^ is to be omitied, in both cases. 
T 3 



222 Versification^ 

Trochaic Verses to be scanned — some of them pure 
TrochdicSy as 

Qnips and I cranks and j wanton j wiles, 
Nods and | becks and \ wreathed j smiles— 
others hating an admixture ofdiferent'feet, or a super- 
numerary iin-accenfed syllable at the end. 

706 
Laura's ejes, in soft dismay, 
Chiding frowns w^ould fain betray, 

707 
Hail to Pleasure's frolic train ! 
Hail to Fancy's golden reign i 
Festive Mirth, and Laughter wild. 
Free and sportive as the child! 

708.— To the Sky-lark. 
Sweetest warbler of the skies. 
Soon as morning's purple dies 
O'er the eastern mountains float. 
Wake me with thy inerry note. 

10Q.~— Written in a Garden. 
Here^ amidst this blest retreat. 
May each fairy fix her seat : 
May they weave. their garlands here, . 
Ever blooming, ever fair.,.. 
3vlay the songsters of the vale 
Warble here the tender tale, 
Pour the thrilling cadence sweet, 
Each blest habitnat to greet. 
May Pomona, ever gay, 
Here her smiling gifts display, 



Femjication. 2 £3 

And with autumn's mellow hoard 
Heap the hospitable board. 

710 
Where the rising forest spreads 

Shelter for the lordly dome, 
To their high-built airy beds 

See the rooks returning home. 
711 
Haste, ye sister pow^'s of song I 

Hasten from the shady grove. 
Where the river rolls along 

Sweetly to the voice of love ; 
Where, indulging mirthful pleasures. 

Light you press the flow^-y green. 
And, from Flora's blooming treasures^ 

Cull the wreath for fancy's queen. 

Trocha'ics to be made. 

Each line to be one verse ; each couplet to rhime ; 

the Italic wards requiring alteration or addition^ as in 

pageigO. 

712 

Now battle glows with fury : 

In torrentsflows hostile blood. 

713 ^ 
Earth resumes all her verdure : . 
All its splendor illumes heav'n^ 

714 
The voice, the dance, obey thee, 
To thy warbled lay teinper'd. 

715 
Wherever she directs her welcome step, 



2£4 Versification. 

Poverty \ ceases to grieve : 
Where her smiles enliven the prospect, 
Anguish dries the tear, 

716 
Here you will 'Meet with \ intellectual pleasures — 
Pleasures that ornament the mind. 
The pleasures of sense are transitory : 
They give no solid happiness^ 

717 
Be no longer alanned^ little trembler : 
Thou \\di%\ plentiful crops stored up— 
Seed^ sown by genial sorrows. 
More than all thy scorners possess, 

718. 
Rise, I amiable \ repentant ; 
Come, and lay clahn to thy kindred heaven. 
Come ! thy sister angels declare 
Thou hast wept out thy stains. 

739 
Charming songster, begin the song^ 
'Eyer Vxevi and gay. 
Bring the wine which inspires joy , 
Ever fresh and fine. 
Gentle boy, vihose feet 
Move lightly to melodious cadence, 
Quickly fill ns the wine, 
Ever fresh and fine. 

720 
Now \el.e%^ene\ice determine 

Between the good and evil &f which you have made trial. 
In the level ground where enchantment reigns. 



Versification. £25 

Declare^, unfold the treasures that you discovered,,,. 

Seas that lie smoothly dimpling, 

While the tempest \ threatens \ above, 

Exhibiting, in an obvious glass. 

Pleasures that vanish in possession ; 

Gay, light, fickie, and transitory, 

Flattering, only ybr the purpose of betraying. 

With prophetic voice, sisters, 

IM us your now the dirge of death. 

• 792 
Will the stork, when she intends rest. 
Build her nest_on the wave '^ 

Listen! amoug yonder \ old trees. 
The breeze sighs, wandering, 

7£4 
Over the head of a parent^ hast thou 
Shed drops of filial affection? 

725 
Heaven shall conduct thy unbefriended steps. 
Enliven thy hours, and protect thy side. 

Trochaics with alternate rhime, requiring alteration or 
addition, as the preceding, 

726 
The roar of the battle brayed faintly. 

At a distance, down the hollow wind. 
Terror fled before : 

In the 7'ear were left wounds and Death. 
727 
'^ We will still ke^p our arms ;" 



226 Versification. ^ 

Thus answered the noble kino* : 
*^ Helmet and mail shall remain. 

And tli€ sword ti^iged in blood.^^ 
728 
The shepherd dines beside the rivulet, 

From the fierce heat o/';^oo/^ 
Protected by the pines, 

Which hang over bis seat. 
7£9 
But from riteVy dell, or mountain, 

Not a Zephyr \ rises, 
Afraidy lest the beam of noon 

Should scorch his silken, his delicate wings. 
730 
With the rose, the plani; of love, 

Let us tinge our wine ; 
With the most beautiful flower that bloweth. 

Let us entwine crowns. * 

731 
The sword, m the king's hand, 
, Gleft brazen \ helmets, like water, 
While, over \ valiant Hacon's head. 

Sword and lance pass, without hurting him. \ 

The first and third lines hi/permeter, with double rhime ; 
the other two of the regular measure. 

732 
Behold! the spirited band comes for ward^ 

Sabres brandished aloft. , 

Hope dances in eacA breast ; 

In each eye, courage speaks. 



Venification. ^Ztl 

733 
Amicsble, gay, whimsical creature, 

Source of every pain and pleasure^. 
Beautiful^ imperfect production of nature, 

Vaiii^ tender, and too apt to believe, 
734. — To the Rose. 
Thou delicious, svveet flower, hail ! 

Once more summer bids thee welcome 
To my agreeable and neat bower — 

Thee, the most sweet of her train, 
735 ' 

YfhWe. every \ ancient poetic mountain 

Breathed inspiration round ahont, " 
Every shade and hallowed spring 

Deeply murmured a solemn sound, 
736 
With declining motion, in the west, 
' The sun, the monarch of day, goes down^ 
From the eastern sea early 

To emerge- with golden beam. 

The first and third lines regular — the second and 
s fourthy hypermeter^ double-rhimcd, 

737 
Shall^tbe budded rose blow^ 

Wasting its beauties on the air, 
• iiot cropped by any desiring hand. 
None enjoying its early sweets ? 



^^8 Versification. 

All of the regular measure; each couplet rhiming, 

738 
Begoru hence, mistaken^ woman ! 
Do not attend to what the Sirens say. 
Pleasure, as rapidly fleeing as the wind, 
Leaves after it pain and repentance. 

739^— To the Cricket. 
Diminutive inmate, full of merriness^ 
Chirping on the hearth of my kitchen^ 
Wheresoever be thy residence. 
Always the forerunner of good ! 
^For thy warm shelter, j reward me 
With a softer and sweeter song. 
Thou shalt have, in return, 
Such a strain as / am ahle to give.,,. 
Neither night nor morning 
Puts an end to thy sport. 
Sing, therefore, and lengthen out thy span 
Far beyond the date of mankind. 
Miserable man^ whose days are passed 
In disconlentment, 
Does not live, \ although he be old, 
Haifa span, in comparison \vith thee. 



* See the note on Mistaken and Mistaking, page 68. 



Versification* 229 

The second and fourth lines rhiming; the Jirst and 
third, without rhinie. 

740 

First trace her glosgy locks: 

Paint them soft, and as black as jet : 
And, if thy imitative power be such, 

Paint them breathing ev'ry sweetness. 
From the cheek, luxuriant, full. 

Partially appearing through her dark-colored hair. 
Let the forehead rise, 

Fair, smooth, and glittering bright. 

The first and third lines hypermeter, without rhime; the 
second and fourth, regular, and rhiming, 

741. — To Sleep. 
My eyes have a long time sought thee to no purpose. 

Come, and bring the relief which I wish for. 
Come, and assuage my tor7nented \ breast, 

Sick with care and sorrow \ at the same time. 
Stealing over my eye-lids, 

Steep my sense in rest, 
Sheddino- from thv zdng^s 

Klndforgetfulness over my sorrozvs. 
Under thy friendly shade, Hope 

Shall spread her fairy colors, 
4tnd with acceptable, j cheerful illusions. 

Dance round my head again, 
u ■ 



230 Versification, 

Regular, with alternate rhime. 

742 
Behold! what storms \ are gathering round, 

Gloomi/j and pregnant with England's destiny ! 
England ! rouse thyself Sit the sound ! 

Behold! the Frenchman is at thy door ! 
Before the arrow of war be sped, 

Meet it, and anticipate the stroke, 
European powers ! lend your assistance. 

To exterminate the common enemy. 

AnapcEstic Verses to be scanned, — See '^ Amtpastic^' 
in the Prosody, page 32. 

743 
The spirit of chivalry reign'd o'er the laws, 
When the glances of beauty decided the caJuse. 

744 
No arbour, no shade, and no verdure is seen ; 
For the trees and the turf are all colors but green, 

745 . . 
My temples with clusters of grapes I'll entwine ; 
And I'll barter all joys for a goblet of wine. 
In search of a VenuS;, no longer I'll run ; 
But ril stop, and forget her, at Bacchus'es tun, 

74b' (See Nos, 755, and 7o6.) 
All bold and erect ev'ry ruffian we meet; [street. 

And the coaclunen, in tremors, scarce trot through the 



Versification. ^31 

With a flourishing whip they once gallop'd along, 
And crush'd out the souls of the beggarly throng. 
To fracture a leg was but reckon'd a joke, 
While the chariot was whirling through foam and 
through smoke. 
747 
Let them talk of the beauties, the graces, that dwell 

In her shape, in her face, in her air. 
I, too, of those beauties, those graces, could tell : 

But, ah ! what avails that she's fair? 
I could say, that, in nature, each emblem is faint. 

To express alj^the charms of her face. 
Her form — oh ! 'tis all that young Fancy can paint ; 

And her air, the perfection of grace. 
But the frOst of unkindness those blossoms can blight— 

Each charm, each perfection, can stain — 
Make the sweet-smiling Loves and the Graces 
take flight, 

And ease the fond fool of his pain. 
Come, Mirth, and thy train! Of thy joys let me share— 

Those joys that enliven the soul. 
With these, Til forget thai my Phyllis is fair.— 

Love and care shall be drowned in the bowl. 
748 
Ye powers, who make Beauty and Virtue your care; 

Let no sorrow my Phyllis molest ! 
Let no blast of misfortune intrude on the fair. 

To ruffle the calm of her breast ! 
749 
I have march'd, trumpets sounding, drums beating, 
flags flying, 



<s 



232 Versification, 

Where ihe music of war drown'd the shrieks of the 
dying. 

750. — Warranted liasors. 
You ^variant those rasors which now I have 

bought?"— 
'^ Yes, truly; I warrant them not worth a groaf." 

751. — Robmson Crusoe*. 
I am monarch of all I survey : 

My right there is none to dispute. 
From the centre all round to the sea, 
I am lord of the fowl and the brute. 

solitude ! what are the charms 
That sages have seen in thy face ? 

Better dwell in the midst of alarms. 
Than reign in this horrible place. 

1 am out of humanity's reach ; 

I must finish my journey alone. 
Never hear the sweet music of speech — 

* It may be proper to inform some of my young renders that 
the fictitious tale of Robinson Crusoe was built on the real 
story of Alexander Selkirk, a Scotchman, who had lived several 
years in total solitude on the island of Juan Fernandez. Upon 
his return to England, he intrusted his papers to Daniel De Foe, 
to prepare them for the press, with the reasonable hope of de- 
riving benefit from the publication of his extraordinary adven- 
tures. But De Foe, shamefully betraying his trust, stole from 
those papers the ground-work of his tale, which he published, 
for his own benefit, as an original piece — leaving poor Selkirk to 
lament the confidence which he had unluckily placed in a man 
who could thus basely and cruelly rob him of all the advantages 
which he was entitled to reap from his past sufferings. 



Versification. 233 

I start at the sound of my own....t.. 
Society, friendship, and love. 

Divinely bestovv'd upon men ! 
Oh ! had I the wings of a dove, 

How soon would I tasle you again ! 

Ye winds, that have made me your sport. 

Convey to this desolate shore 
Some cordial endearing report 

Of a land I shall visit no more. 

AnapcESiics to be versified • 

Jnap{zstics of four feet. — Each Hue to make a 
versey and each couplet to rhhne,— N, B. It is of no 
coyisequence whether the first foot of each verse consist 
oftzco syllables or of three, provided that the last syU 
lable of that foot he accented, — See page 32. 

752 
Adieu to the woodlands, where, gay and sportive, 
The cattle play so frolicsomej hght bounding. 

753 
Adieu to the woodlands, where I have rov'd oft. 
And, with the friend that I lov'd, conversed sweetly, 

754 
Content and joy are now fled from our dwellings ; 
And, instead, disease and want are our inmates. 

755. — The French Revoluiiori, 
Now chivalry is dead, and Gallia ruin'd ; 
And the glory of Europe is fled for ever. 
V 3 



^S4 Versification. 

756 
No distinctions remain : lost is all order : 
Crosses, ribbons, and titles, obtain no rev'rence. 

757 
All ranks, all ages, all nations, shall combine 
In this divine and just war of benevolence. 

758 
Though, from dunghills, meteors arise with lustre. 
Is the filth, left behind, like the flame in the skies ? 

759 
A singular custom prevails at Pavia, 
To protect, from jails and bailiffs, the poor debtor. 

760 [pale; 

In my eye there's no grief, though my cheek may be 
And 'tis seldom I give a sigh to sad mem'ry. 

761 
You'll soon fly afar from country and from friends. 
To havoc and to camps, to w^ar and to rage. 

762 
His case I remember'd, though scant was my wallet. 
Nor, to his pitiful face, refus'd ray last crust. 

^ 763 
Blind, forsaken, and poor, where shall I now go ? 
Can I find one so kind and faithful, to guide me ? 

764 [burden; 

Her limbs could then no more support their faint 
And she sank on the floor breathless and exhausted. 

765 
The hotter the fight, we still grow the fiercer. 
So we conquer the foe, the loss we heed not. 



Vemjicaiion, 235 

766 
Queen of the fairies, so gay and rosy ! come ! 
As the daughter of May, with flow'rs we must crown 
you. 

767. — The impressed Sailor. 
Because I've ventur'd ray life for my country, 
From my wife and my hoaie Fm dragg'd, like a thief. 

768. — The Soldier. 
After marching all day, sore and hungry and faint. 
On the swamps of the moor, atnight I have lain down, 
Unshelter'd, and by fatigue forc'd to remain, 
By the wind all chiU'd, and by the rain benumb'd. 

769. — On a Vintner. 
While Balderdash vends the vilest of compounds, 
And, for all his good friends, brews his dear poison, 
No wonder they can never get him to dine : — 
He's afraid they'll oblige him to drink his own wine. 

770 
"From my brother the post hasjnst brought aletter ; 
And, to write him another, I am seated here. 
Wo'n't it be very clever, if I can do't in rhime ? 
And 1 could for ever scribble, I'm so ibnd of rhime. 

771 
She pass'd still fearless o'er weed-cover'd fragments. 
And at last arriv'd at the innermost ruin,..,. 
When, on her ear, the sound of a voice seem'd to 
All eager to hear, she listened, and she paus'd. [rise. 

772 
Prostrate is laid the ehn, beneath whose broad shade 
I have play'd and gambol'd in childhood's blithe day. 
The gay thrushes shall no more sing on its boughs, 



236 Versijication. # 

Nor goldfinches hail the commencement of spring. 
The musical choir, depriv'd of their shelter. 
Retire to the shade of the thickets, with re^o-ret. 

773. — Woman. 
Tis woman, whose charms impart evVy rapture, 
And to the pulse of the heart add a soft spring. 
Her sway is so supreme — the miser himself 
Resigns her his key, and to love grows a convert. 
Sorrow lifts up his head, at the sound of her voice 
And, from his shed, Poverty, well pleas'd, listens. 
Even Age, hobbling along, in an ecstasy, 
Beats time to the tune of her song, with his crutch. 

774 
We cheerfully hope to find in our cottage 
The solace of mind, and the transport of life. 
Nature may shine there with unborrowed beauty. 
And read some divine lecture through all seasons ; 
Excite the ambition pursued by wisdom. 
And point to the giver of good, from his gifts. 
Friends, ever welcome, shall pay glad visits there, 
And books shall display the science of ages. 

77 5.~To a Daughter, with a Chaplet of Flowers, 
A more beauteous garland may adorn thy breast, 
Than courts the soft dew-drops of Maya's lucid morn. 
If, kind and obliging, good-humour'd and mild. 
The fruits of the heart aid the blossoms of mind. 
If love and duty join with ease and spirit. 
The dear chaplet they form, that will ever please. 
In thy bosom, mj^ sweet little Jane, wear these ; 
And unfaded will remain the flowVs that we prize. 



Versification. ^37 

776 
Oh ! burn the tall heath which waves in the gale now : 
Let nought prevail but the war-songs of Erin*. 
The prows of the strangers swell the green wave now : 
Unsheath then the sword of the brave, ye heroes. 
Far from the shore, far, chase the deer of black Mor- 
Till thebanquet of Odin and of Death is oer. [vern, 
Of our fathers of old sing the deeds, ye bards, 
And rouse the bold and the brave to new glory.... 
From the heath-cover'd dell shall start the heroes, 
Determin'd to fall as fell their forefathers. 
Ye bold hunters of Colna's dark plain ! bend the bow: 
Rejoice again in the strength of your arrows. 
Now the spears of the strangers darken the sky : 
Dread Odin is nigh, and the eagle has shrieked thrice, 

Anapc&stics of four feet and three alternately ™ with 
alternate rhime, 

777 
The beauties, so rare, that adorn my Phyllis^ 

To those of her mind are inferior. 
The forlorn orphan, and aged, she succours, 

And is kind to all the afflicted, 
778 
A slave to passion, of Fancy a votVy, 

With a heart that of guile 's unconscious. 
Of each plodding mean knave e'er shall I be the dupe, 

Aad of each villain's dark wile the prey. 

* Erin, the Gaelic name of Ireland. 



£38 Versification , 

779 
A maiden cried, Ah me ! ah I where can I fly, 

For aid, from so wild a tempest i 
Can you now, my rigid stern sire, mock the sigh 

Of your wandering, houseless, poor child ? 
780 
Ev'ry care and sorrow I sooth tenderly : 

I toil, unwearied, to ease thee. 
I ensnare, by my wiles, the fish of the stream, 

Despoil of their flowers the meads 

781 
When our forefathers stray 'd wide o'er the woodlands, 

As rude as the rocks of our isle, 
Along the deep glade watiton'd fair Liberty, 

And with a smile deck'd ev'ry face. 
782 
The wide world is a desolate waste to me, 

Where to roam Fortune has doom'd me, 
Expos'd to the blast, a care-haunted pilgrim. 

And denied a home or com[ anion, 
783 
^' Fond visions of joy ! vain illusions ! hence! hence! 

In my breast no more shall you reign. 
The frown of my Phyllis can annoy no more: 

Her smile can make me blest no more'* 

Resolv'd to shake off the soft chain, young Strephon^ 

Among the gay shepherds, sang thus. 
But his triumph is short : for, o'er the plain, see ! 

Lightly trips along his Phyllis. 



Versification. 239 

Anapastics of four feet, zcith alternate rhime. 
784 
From the blush of young Morn the trees borrow tints, 

As to the gale they expand their beautiful bloom, 
Where they adorn the cottage, and shadow the path, 
Of Emma, the pride of the vale, sweet Emma. 
785 
Stern winter has stripp'd the trees of their honors. 

And strew'd blighted beauties around in rain : 
Now by the breeze the pride of the woodlands is toss'd, 
And the still streamlet is bound in strong icy chains. 
786 
I have, as I pass'd, seen how the rose, gay blushing, 
Display'd her bosom to the gale of the morning : 
I returned : but away had her beauties faded ; 

And, ere the ev'n ing, was the pride of the morn dead. 
787 
The look was gone, that spoke gladness and welcome : 
The blaze was no more, that in the hall shone bright. 
A stranger, with a bosom of stone, was there; 
And, as I*enter'd his dooi", his look was cold. 
788 
A strange contest arose between nose and eyes: 

Unhappily the spectacles set them wrong. 
As ev'ry one knov>^s, the point in dispute was, 

To which ought to belong the said spectacles 

So his lordship decreed, with a solemn, grave tone, 

Clear and decisive, without one but or if, 
That, whenever the nose put on his spectacles. 
By candle-light or day-light, eyes should be shut. 



240 Versificaiion, 

Thefint and third lines with double rhime. 
789 
How sweet is the thought of to-morrow to the hearty 
When Hope's fairy pictures display bright colors! 
How sweet, when w^e can borrow from futurity 
A balm for the griefs that to-day afflict us ! 
790 
The last torrent was streaming from his bosom that 
heav'd ; 
And his visage, deep mark'd with a scar, was pale: 
And dim was that eye, once beaming expressively, 
That kindled in v.ar, and that melted in love. 

Anapastics of three feet : — rhime alternate, 

791 
I was cast upon the wide world, 

A little bo}', fatherless, poor: 
But, at last, Fortune, kind Fortune, 

Has turn'd to joy all my sorrow. 

AnapcEstics of four feet : -^each couplet to rjiime. 

im.— Diana. 
While she follows the chase, Taygetus'^ sounds 
With the cry of the hounds, and the notes of the horn. 

* T'dygetns. — In ancient Greek names, tbe Y never uHites 
with a preceding vowel to form a diphthong, but always makes 
a separate s^'Uable, as in Ce-yx, Ca-yster, &c. though (strange 
as it may appear to the English reader) THYIh but one syllable 
in lUthyia and Orithyia, which, in Greek and Latin poetry, con- 
tain only four syllables each, as J have shown in my " Latin 



Versification. ^241 

793 
Lei order preside throughout your whole household ; 
For order is ever allied with prudence. 

794 
For departed moments, ah ! ne'er to return — 
For scenes of past blissji we mourn, un-availing ; 
When, blooming with health, our little ones and our- 
selves 
To indolent Wealth were objects of envy ; 



Frosody ;" the YI being, in the original, a diphthong (l/i), 
sounded, probably, by the ancient Greeks, as it is by the modern 
French in Luif Nuit, Puis, though difficult of pronunciation to 
an English tongue, as observed in my note on the word Puis' 
sarice,'^ under the head of " Diaresis/^ in page 10. — With respect 
to T''^]/getus, agreeably to the practice of Virgil, Homer, and other 
ancient writers, ii contains four syllables— the third, short; and 
the accent falls on the second — l^a-y-getus. In my edition of 
Drydenh Virgil (Geo. 3, 74), I chose rather to presume thaju 
our English bard had intended a syncope, however harsh, in the 
third syllable, than that he could have been so grossly ignorant 
of the classical quantity and pronunciation, as to make Tay a 
single syllable, and to lengthen the ge. Accordingly, I thus 
printed the line — 

Thy hounds, T'dyg'tus, open . and pursue their prey. 

Such of my readers, however, as prefer dactyls and anapaests to 
the use of the syncope, may avoid the harsh elison, by m.aking 
the third foot an anapaest, thus — 

Thy hounds, \ Tdy- \ -getuSj 5-1 -pen, and pursue their prey- 
though neither that nor any other management in the reading 
can ever render it a pleasing line, destitute, as it is, of the middle 
C(smra^ which is indispensable in the Alexandrine metre. 

X 



242 Versification. 

When, at the close of each day, innocent sports 
Could banish away our sorrows and our cares. 
Ah ! when will sweet pastime the plain revisit. 
And content and joy smile again around us? 

Alternate rhime. 

195 [man. 

When, in the vale, had ceas'd the stroke of the wood- 
And night's lonely warbler'^ her sweet song com- 
menced. 
Her tale a heart-broken maiden repeated. 

And to the stream, as along it murmured, sigh'd. 

Blank Verse. 



Ten-syllable Iambics, in which some of the Italic 
words are to have epithets added — home are to he al- 
tered as di^Scted in page 1 96 — and some are both to be 
altered and to have epithets. 

Oh ! if I had but the envied power of choosing 
My residence, no sound of city bell should come to 
My ear — not even the cannon's roar. 

797 
Agreeable to see the laborer hasten homeward. 
Light-hearted, as he supposes his steps [family. 

Will sQ^n be welcomed by the smile of his young 

798 
Ah! who can describe the mother's ]oyy 
When first her infant leaps, quivering, 
With extended arms, to meet her embrace? 

- . 1 . ■■■ — ■ T 

* The 'nightingale. 



Versification. 243 

799 
Now the sui}; frcin the burning heaveUy \ness 

Has driven azoay each cloud : with universal bright^ 
Blazing, the earth repels the eye, 

800 
Amid the nocturnal prowlers of thy wild commons, 
Britannia, man walks safe ; in all their tribes, [aim 
None calculated to bid him shake with four, none to 
Claw or fang against their master, 

801 
Thus, when his army over the Alps, to no purpose 

opix)sed, 
Hannibal led, the last ascent, [now trod. 

Laboriously proceeding over ice-built rocks, as they 
Gasping for breath, the myriads | halted. 

802 
Far from being the same, wisdom and knowledge 
Frequent/f/ have no connexion. Knowledge resides 
In heads stored \\'\ih other merits thoughts, 
Wisdom in minds that attend to iheir own. 

803 
One spring evening, as, rapt in solitary thought. 
He traced his confines, from the bordering common 
An old man came forth : his steps 
A young woman watch'd, with looks of fihal affection. 

804 
Hypocrisy, hate her as we may. 
May still lay claim to this merit, that she acknowledges 
The value of what she imitates with such care, 
And thus gives virtue ^rt^se | indirectly. 



£44 Versification, 

805 
But, my friend, before we separate, let us ascend 
You mountain, and trace back o\yv journey. 
Easy the ascent, and many an agreeable herb 
Has Nature lavishly \ strezved round. 

806 [feet 
There are, whom more humble walks please: their 
Can visit the close cottage^ \ in which Poverty 
Patiently sits, and in which Industry, retired 
From daily labor, \ bieathes the poisoned air; 

807 [soundly. 
Charming \ baby! oh! mayest thou ever sleep as 
Smile as softly, while over thy little bed 

Thy mother sits, with enraptured gaze 
Catching each/ea^wre's sweet expression. 

808 
How rapid the falcon's wing in pursuing ! 
Less rapid the linnet's flight. Alas ! unfortunate bird ! 
Weak and weary is now thy wing, 
While the foe draws close and closer. 

809. — Spring. 
When the waking flowers and imprisoned leaves now 
Burst from their tombs, the birds, that lurked, without 

being seen, 
In the midst o/the hybernal shade, in busy tribes 
Pour their forgotten crowds, and derive, 
From the smile of Spring, new rapture^ new life. 

810 [scene, 

Thou mayest then peacefully \ endure the passing 
Sure of more fioble life beyond the tomb. 



Versification. 245 

Where vice, pain, and error, shall no longer \ exist, 
But untainted happiness^ and consummate wisdom, 
Fill the capacious soul, and crown ihe everlasting 

8 1 1 [scene. 

The pure stream now, from the shozvers cf April 
Refined, shows each pebble, that ornaments 
Its bottom, and eacli scaly inhabitant 
Glancing quick in the shallow parts, or, in pursuit 
Oi prey, sailing slowly in the deep. 

812 
How soft the harmony of the bells of the village 
Falling upon the ear at intervals 
In pleasing cadence, now ail dying away, 
Now again loudly pealing-, and still 7/zore loudly, 
Clear and sounding, as the gale approaches ! 

813 
The moon rides high in ihe clouds, 
That glisten, as they arc zoafted athwart her disk. 
Charming is the glimpse, that, for a little zcidle, plays 
Among these mouldering pinnacles. But, listen! 
That dismal sound ! it is the owl, 

814. — Young Birds stolen from the Nest. 
In the mean time, the younger victims, one after 

another, 
Drop off, destroyed by attention, and improper food. 
One perhaps, more hardy than the others, survives, 
And, 'tween the bars with zceeds 
Entwined, suspended at some high window, hops 
Fro??i one stick to another, his unvaried little round* 

X 3 



^46 Fersification, 

Q\5. — To Fancy. 
Friend of my solitary hours ! thou conductest me 
To such peaceful [ pleasures, as Nature, wise and 

good, 
Vainly roffers to all her miserable sons — 
Her miserable sons, who pine with want, in the midst of 
The abundant earth, and hVmdly prostrate themselves 
Before the Moloch altars of riches and power. 

816 
Do summer suns load the meadow with grass, 
And color the ripening year * ? With sudden fury 
The thunder-storm descends : the river rises, 
Impatiently leaps the mound; and, while the waves 
Devour the crop, calls on thee, 

man, to be alarmed for thy daily Sustenance, 

817 
Come, pensive Sadness, thou, who avoidest 
The haunts of mankind: it is thee I woo. 
Come, appease the tumults of an agitated mind. 

1 will cherish thee as an acceptable j visitor. 

And, in ?>ome place of retirement, indulge in freedom 
The gloom of sorrow, imknown and unnoticed. 

818 
The heart is hard in nature, and not calculated 
For human society, as being devoid 
Of fellow feeling, and therefore equally dead 
Both to qfection and friendship, that is not delighted 

* In the original, it is *^ Year,^^ which, if ROt a typographic 
error for Ear [of 'corn], seems intended hy the author as a 
xiietonymy — the ^ar^ for the produce of the year. 



Fersi/ication* ^47 

With sight of living creatures enjoying existence, 
Jnd does not feel their happiness augment his, 

819 
While; with their heads under their ruffled y^a^A^rs 
Concealed, the birds, ihvit pursued their sport during 

the day time, 
Repose in those buaheSy at the roots of which 
The vivid worm illumes her spark that shines in the 

night, 
And, couching in that brake, the deer 
Sleeps, \ forgetting e-ach past alarm. 
The evening tribes cowze out o/" their cells. 

8^20 
And what is the life ofman^f a day's short journey, 
Fraught with vicissitudes Now up the wonderful 

height 
Hope ascends, and views wistfully, and again views 
The prospect which extends in length — calls the pro- 
spect beautiful — 
N0W5 like the kid, over the lawn 
She springs ; then, in the midst of the tcaste, 
Cheerfully sings, though she does not hear any voice 

around, 
821. — Children employed in Manufactories, 
Behold! the poor elves, with pale faces, in torn ( 

ga?'ments, 
Motley with half-spun threads, Rxid fakes of cotton, 
Trudge, drooping, to the lofty | building, 
In zMchf thousand spindles whirling deafen the ear. 
Confused. There, closely \ imprisoned, they moil, 

wretched. 



248 Versification. 

Charming age ! perverted from its proper end ! 
When childhood labors^ the field ought to be the 
scene. 

8££ [solitari/ wilds. 

Full of thought,^ j without a companion, J walk the 
Pacing the earth with sluggish and lingering steps, 
Vigilantli/ avoidmg all haunts of human kind; 
Intently watchfal to shun with speed 
The impertinent stare and prying eyes of the world: 
For, long bereft of cheerful and gay thought, [me. 
My appearance betrays the internal fire that consumes 

Fresh from his lurking place, yon hollow trunk, see 

The wild-cat, the most deadly of the savage tribes 

That xcander in British woods, j accustomed on high 

To seise the squirrel, or by stratagem 

Pluck the dove from her nest, 

Or, corning down to the ground, thin the race 

That bores t!ie sandy warren.*^^^^^ 

S24. — H(fme. 
In that little expression, there is an enchantment : 
It is a mystical circle, that encompasses 
Comforts and virtues which are never known beyond 
The hallovyed boundary. My heart has frequently 
Asked for ihivt peaceable haven : at present havened, 

* The reader may compare these lines with the first eight of 
No. 697; both being translations from the twenty-eighth sonnet 
of Petrarch. The former was fost published; the latter given 
afterwards by a different band, as a literal translation. 



Versification. 249 

I refiect on those; in the wilderness of this world 
Who strut/ OH; and do not find any home of rest. 

In the mean timej the little songsters, eager to cheer 
Theix partners j closely brooding in tiie brake under- 

neatk, 
Strain their throats, or, with the attention of parents, 
Conduct their offspring from twig to twig; 
Instruct them to seise the gnat, to balance 
Their wings in short flights, to make trial of their 

strength. 
And venturously \ commit themselves to the bosom of 

the air. 

8£6 
'^hither shall I turti myself? whither shall I direct 

ly weary way ? thus exhausted with /«6or, and faint, 
How, through the mazes of thisybres^, 
Reach my dwelling? That deep cry, 
That ecAoes along the wood, \ appears to sound 
My knell: it is the midnight holding 
Oi monsters prowling for their pre\^ 

SQ>7'— Civilised Society. [multitude 
Happy \ the man^ though undistinuuished from the 
By riches or dignity, who securely \ resides 
Where man, naturally fierce, hQ.% put off 
Wis fierce disposition^ having learned, though tar* 

dy I in learningj 
The arts and the manners of civilised life. 
His necessities indeed are numerous: but supply 
Is obvious, being placed within the reach 
Of industrious hands and temperate desires. 



^oQ. Versrfication. 

8C8 
O ye^ who court the silent peaceful retreats 
Oi' contemplation, and who above all prefer 
Tlie hne/^^ walk— as being best suited to [haunts 

The views of those who sigh to pme^rcr^ the secret 
Of Nature, observing her vagaries, 
And, as bold and f?^ee from restraint as she, to muse 
The free, the rapturous lay — continue to pace along 
Your solitary way ; and delightful be your musings. 

829. ~ Parental AtUhoritij. 
See your friend, your best, your most sincere friend, 
A parent, whose authority, in appearance 
When severest, and colltctitig all its force, 
Is 07ily the graver countenance of affection^ 
Whose favor may lour, like the spring clouds, 
And sometimes utter a tremendous voice, 
But hag a blessing in the darkest of its frowns. 
At the sv^e moment threatening 'e^ad feeding the plant. 

830 — Profusion. 
It is a hungry vice. It devours \ every thing 
That geres to society its strength, beauty. 
Security, and conveniertce, and utility ; 
Converts men into mere vermin, deserving to be trapped, 
Awdhanged on gibbets^ as fast as catchpole claws 
Can lay hold on the shppery prey ; loosens the knot 
Of union, and changes the band. 
That holds the human kind together, into a scourge. 

2S\.—TheOwL 
She mourns during the whole night, j being percKi 

in some vacant niche. 
Or time-rent crevice. To \k\^ forests sometimes 



T ers^ication. £.51 

She bends her silent wing, zchich motes slowly, 

And on some trte, dead of old age. 

Sits on the zcatch Tor her prey. But, should the foot 

Oi iii'dw force its way into her shades, 

He, being startled, hears the decayed breaking branch 

Crash, as she rises : — further in-^ie obscurity, 

She wings her way to deeper solitudes. 

S32.—The Szmllows. 
A long time before the gusts of winter, with chiliy 

sweep. 
Sigh through the groves, the swallow tribes, 
Warned by heaven, \ assemble in airy bevies, 
Or sit in clusters, as if in deep consultation 
When to launch : but thev li?iP'er and wait. 
Until ihcweak of the last broods 
Have collected sixewgihio venture on the seaward path. 
At last, the twitter of adieu, spreading, sounds: 
They fly wp,and melt in the air at a distance. 

B33.— Death. 
Death ! where the magic in that name, 
Th'iM freezes my inmost heart ? At the idea, why 
Starts, on every limb, the dew of fear ? 
There are no terrors to environ the grave. 
When the mind, collected zdthin itself, 
Viezvs that narrow habitation. The ghastly train, 
That haunt the midnight oi Guilt, 
Then disappear. — In that \\or;\e o^ everlasting \ repose, 
All sorrows cease. ^^'*'^' 

834. — A January Night in Town. 
F^lly and Vice run their rouiids thete : 



£5£ Versificatiofi. 

There multitudes are hastily going to the sight 

Oi fictitious distress, yet have not leisure to hear 

The prayer of the shivering orphan, Tlie flaring lamps 

0{ chariots, drawn by pampered horses, 

Illuminate the snowy street: thewheels; rolling with- 

out noise, 
Steal, unperceived, on incautious \>^%seugeY, 
Conveying the fair to flutter round 
Amid the labyrinths of the dance. 

835. — A February Night in a Village. 
While the night continues long, and dreary, and chilly, 
As soon as the oblique sun has sunk from view. 
The sound of the anvil cheerily invites 
The fatigued j rustic to leave his [own*} fire. 
And bask himself before the glare of the furnace ; 
Where the rustic circle, blest with merriment j which 

costs them nothing, 
(While their faces are tinted with the yellow blaze) 
Beguile the hours, and do not envy rooms of state. 

83fJ. — April. 
The western gale now sweeps lightly over the plain ; 
It gently w^aves the cascade of the rivulet : 
It gently divides the lock on the brow of Beauty, 
And raises the tresses from the white neck. 
And bends theflewers, and causes the lily to stoop. 
As if to kiss its image in the water. 
Or curls the poo/; with softest breath. [sparkles, 

Conduct, W'here^ through the glade, yon spring 

Over whose brink the narcissus bends, 

_- . — — % 

* The word, " own,'' is to be omitted. 



Versification, 253 

That delights to trace in the wave its beaut}' ; 
Where the western breeze^ whispering through the 
Dips his wing^ in the current, Reaves, 

And sprinkles freshness over ihefiowers. 

837^—May.—Birdi>' Nests. 
The little bird, from the bank of wild flowers, now 
Picks the moss, and flies to the thicket. 
And returns repeatedly, and renews the work repeatedly j 
'Till ail \\\e fabric hangs complete; 
Ah ! but ill hidden from the eye of the school-boy^ 
Who, regardless of the bird's saddest plaint, 
Snatches from the bush the labor oi many an hour. 

%SQ.~June. 
UnfortuJiate is the man, who, in this season, pent 
Within i\\t gloom of city lane. 

Pines for the flowery paths, and shades of the woods, 
From which the dcme oi gain or of power 
Enticed his youthful steps. He un-l-availingly turns 
The rich descriptive pages of Thomson's poe;/?z, 
And endeavours to persuade hi?nself that the lovely 

scenes 
Are before his eyes. \ In the same manner the hand c^" 

childhood tries 
Vo grasp the bunch of fruit or flowers represented in 

a picture, 
But, being disappointed, feels the canvas smooth. 

B39.— September. 
At hour of noon, the reaper band 
Repose from their lahoj-^. Around their simple fare, 

* Sec th€ note in the foilowirig page, 
Y 



^34 Versification, 

Spread upon the stubble, they blithesomely fonii 

A circling groupe, while behind humbly waits 

The (fog, and, with significant look 

And pawing foot, begs his WixXe portion. 

The short meal, seasoned with mirth, 

And not w'whoxxl singings gives place to sleep. 

With sheaf under his head, the young rustic 

Enjoys sweet sleep, while the young woman he loves 

Steals to his side, and shelters him from the sun. 

840. — October. 
The woods are hushed : 7iot a bird is heard. 
Except where the red-breast mouYus the fall of the leaf. 
At close of day nozc grown shorter, the reaper**, /a- 

tigued, 
With sickle on his shoulder, hies towards home. 
Night comes with mmacing \ tempest, first lowly 

whi-pering, 
Sighing amid the branches; then, gradually, 
With violence increased at each pause, 
It I'Sigesfuriously, \ terrifying startled sleep. 

841. — December. 
The blast /o?/rf/j/ blows. YihWe, screened ixomhs fury, 
The social circle feel their /?/g6/swres enhanced. 
Ah ! little do they think of the ship, 
In the midst of ihe uproar of the winds and billows--^ 
The billows unseen, except by the glare of the lightning, 
Oy flash of the cannon, | me/«/zcAo/?y signal of distress! 



* These descriptions were written in Scotland, where the 
harvest is not so early as in the southern parts of our i&land. 



Versification. Q55 

Each moment the crezo ] fancy they feel 

The shock of a sunken rock. At length they strike. 

Wafted on the blast, their voices reach. 

Faintly, the sea-girt hamlet. Assistance is UJi-availing. 

842 
Can prolific nature present to the eye 
A more noble scene, than when the retiring sun 
Gleams on the fading prospect, and illuminates 
The extensive view with a last stream of brightness f 
The death of Virtue is similar; similar the glow 
Of her last hour, that enlivens the mmd. 
When on the course of a life proptrly spoit 
The eye of the mind revens, and continues to gaze, 
^Till the shades of death overwhelm (he sight, 
And lull the senses in a durable \ sleep. 

843 [thee,. 

England ! notwithstanding all thy faults, I still love 
My native land! and, while yet a corner is left. 
Where linglish manners and minds may be found. 
Shall he forced to love thee. Though ihy climate 
Be changeable, and thy year, for the most part, d^- 
With rains, or withered by a frost, [forriifd 

Yet I vvouid not exchange thy sullen skies 
And fields destitute offiowerSy for warmer France 
With all her vineyards^ nor for Ausonia's groves 
Of golden/) W2Y5, and her bowers of im/ rile. 

844 
How the delighted \ Sre'^^f swells, when the eye 
Roves, unsated with pleasure^ from shade [Jiand 

To shade, from grove to thicket, from groups near at 



'256 Versification, 

To yon priniseva]/ores?5, with darkening sweep 
TJetiring; and 'perceives the whole with beauty 
Kindling, and glowing with renmed life ! 
For now^ at the re-animating call of spring, 
Each native of the wood --from the trunk 
Huge and towering, down to the bush— 
JgaiJi assu7nes its own peculiar character. 

845 
Beholdy from his camm \ under yon brambiy bant% 
The fox glide forth, scenting l\\Qvrey 
Perched at the cottage xVif^^t/'iaV/f/y. | Sto/ycreepbg, 
The weasel, and lileiitJy, through the fern. 
Comes unawares on the doziDg leveret. From her seat 
She starts, and^^mes away the assailant^^asifg/i^d 
iirmlif to her neck, and, from the flowing vein, 
bucking the vital current. Behold! she drops dozen : — 
The 7nurderer slinks into the brake 
From the carcase, sixted with the blood. 

846 
Thus, when art her standard 
P!ants on some barbarous shore, to mountains 
And fastnesses in craggy rocks his warrior sons 
The irritated Genius oi i\\e wilderness withdraws. 
There bids thern, from the detested infffience 
Of science free; their bloody rites, 
Their unpolished manners, and savage laws, uphold ; 
'Till destiny shall again pour them from their cavtrns^ 
Eager over their long-lost plains again 
To extend the veil of ignorance and night. 

847. — Botany Bay. 
Why, stern MemoriK must thy hard hand 



Versification. ^7 

Harrow my soul? why recalls thy power 

The fields of England to my eyes here in exile— 

The pleasures which once were mine? Even now I 

The lowly, lovely kabitatiou : even now [behold 

See the woodbine clasping hswallsy 

And hear the red-breasts chirp around, 

To ask their morning repast ; for I was accustomed^ 

With friendly handj, to furnish their morning repast, 

Was accustomed to love their song, when lingering 

morning 
Streaked the light over the chilly landscape. 

848 
See yon pool, by spri7igs I 

Still nurtured, attract the crowds that graze 
The plain /j/i«g near. — On the bank worn bare,. 
And marked with ten thousand steps, the colts 
Join together in shifting groups ; or, to the brink 
Going dowHy dip their pasterns in the zoater. 
The tribes that kctve horns, being bolder, or less of heat 
And imects patient, far from shore 
Immerge their chests ; and, while the szvarm 
Now soars up, now resolutely descends. 
Lash their siJe5,.and, stamping quickly 
And frequently, scatter ihejiuid round. 

849 
The glow of evening is faded. The West hard'y 
Retains a pale memorial of the sun-beams 
That made it blaze, when the horizontal clouds, 
With purple dies, and fissures bordered with gold,. 
Streaked the calm gather ; while, through haze,. 

y. 3„ 



258 Fersificatmu 

The faint hiils glimmered, more faint ^^^ their cliain 
Came near to the fount of brightness, still morefainiy 
As the depariirfg orb descended, and with the sky 
United in nndistinguishable splendor.... 
The subsiding glow, more mild, still more mild, 
Spared the pamed ei/e, and, with sober rays 
Extinguished in the gathering dusk, refreshed the 
ei/esight, 
850. ' — The Finding of Muses. 
The Nile glides slowly. Amid the flags on the margin^ 
The babe is left, shut up in a bulrush ark, 
Left by the hand-xjf a mother, His sister waits 
.At a distance i and, pale between hope and fear, sees 
The royal virgin, surrounded by her attendants, 
Draw near to the river bank, draw near to the spot 
Where sleeps the child. She sees them stoop 
To view the ark. The lid of rushes is opened, 
And wakes the babe, smiling in his tears ; 
As when, along a small lake on a ynountain, 
The south-wind ofsimimer breathes with gentle sigh. 
And separates the reeds, showing, as they bend, 
A water-lilv; which floats on the wave. 

851 
What wonders can the divine power per tor av 
More grand than it annually produces. 
And all in sight oi mankind \ who pay no attention 9 
Being familiar with the effect, we disregard the cause,. 
And, in the constancy o/' Me course of nature, 
Tlie regular recwrr^^m-e of genial months,^ 
And renewal of a faded •world, 



Vevsification, 259 

Discove-r nothing to wonder at. Should God again, . 
i\s cm a certain occasion in Gibeon*, interrupt the 

career 
Of the punctual and undeviating sun, 
How would the world be astonished ! Butdoesitsjyeak 

less 
A divine agency, to make him know 
His moment when to descend, and \Wien to ascend, 
Age after age, than to stop his course ? 
Everj/ thing that we behold, is miracle: but, being 

seen 
So duly, evoy thing is miracle to no purpose. 

852. — Crnel Punishment of a Negro Slave* 
Inhuman Europeans! not satisfied 
With sentences of death, aloft you hung your victim 
Corfined i^i a cage, to scorch beneath the torrid ray, 
And feed, while yet alive, theya?t;& of heaven ! 
Bckold! ah'eady they cling round the bars ! 
The head of the vulture looks through : she inefectu- 

ally strives 
To force her passage. The lesser* birds zcait 
Till exhmisted n^tme sinks: then they pounce on, 
And tear ihe fesh. In excruciating pain 
The victim awakes, and rolls his eyes, 
And with feeble effort drives away the ravening multi^ 

iudes oj birds. 



* Gibcon— The first syllable to be accented, the two laitcr 
rc-cluced by synccresis to one, as bw?i in Gabion. 

■\ See the remarks on Lesser and ]Vorser, in page 67, 



Q60 Fersificaiion. 

He groans in the most dreadful manner ; it is thirst, 

thirst, thirst, 
The most dire of human torments ! Down aoain 
He sinks: again he feels the beak, 

853. — Ovid's Departure into Exile^^ 
While I scan in memory's mirror 
The scenes of that 72ight — 
That night of deepest woe, when ^ forcible/ dragged by 

destine/ 
From every thing that my heart held dear, to Rome 
I zorrotrfully bade adieu — the tear 
Even at this moment rolls down my cheek. The morn- 

J ^^S I '^^^^ approaching 
Of that day^ by Caesar's will 
Previously ordained to be the period, when, within 

thy boundaries, 
Ah ! dearly-beloved Italy ! my steps 
Might not any longer dare to tread : — nor sufficient 
Had been the time allowed, nor had my mind 
(However submissive to the severe decree) 
Exerted sufficient energy, io prepare myself 
For the hour zehick impended : — the delay, 
Indulged during too long a time, had frozen up my soul, 
And benumbed the thinking jt^oa^er within me. 
Heedless, f did not select, from the menial throng 
What slave should, in the zcilds of Scythia, ease 
My various wants, whnt friend 
Escort me on my journey; nor store of dress 

* From bis Tristia, book 1, elegj 3, 



Venijlcatioiu £6 1 

Proper for this ungenid rude climate, nor an^ thing 

Necessari/ to life's enjoyment, occupied 

My providential care. Bereft oi intellect 

I stood, as a person who, stunned by lightning, retains 

The vital spark, without being conscious that he is 

alive. 
At length the excess of my grief \ dissipated the cloud 
That before had darkened my reason ; and, thought 
Recovering its lost empire, I address. 
In last, melancholy, parting speech, the scrronful few 
\Mio now remain, of friends that ivcre lately so nu- 
merous. 



TilE ENI>. 



'?-> Gii let, Printer, Crcvn-courl, Ilcet-sticet, Lotidoa. 



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